Tumgik
#jennifers body hurt/comfort
Note
JENNIFERCHECK. SAD READER W SH/EATING ISSUES IF UR OK W IT
DUDE I FEEL TARGETED LOL
I'm (Not) Fine (Jennifer Check x reader)
Warnings: hurt/comfort, reader suffers from unspecified mental health issues, swearing, Jennifer may be out of character, mentions of self harm/self harm scars, mentions of eating issues, please don't read this if it will negatively affect you or your mental health in some way
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Life seemed absolutely unbearable recently, and nothing you did seemed to make it better. The only thing that made you happy was when you were at school, because that meant you would get to see Jennifer.
Most people saw her as nothing more than a shallow, materialistic bitch, but you were able to see past her snarky attitude and realize she was actually much more fragile and kind than she was made out to be.
You usually sat in the back of the class, but since becoming friends she would always save you a seat next to her, which was up near the front. You felt awkward and out of place sitting so close to so many people, but her mere presence was always able to make you feel better.
Once school was over, you would follow your usual routine of doing your homework as slowly as possible, trying to ignore the aching pain in your stomach and the twitchy feeling you got in your hands whenever you felt the need to hurt yourself.
Then you'd take off your school clothes, drink some water to try to fill the gaping hole left behind in your abdomen by your lack of food intake, then crawl into bed and pass out (but knowing you you'd only get about three or four hours of sleep before you'd have to wake up and endure it all again).
You tried to make it seem like you were okay, because you were, really. Of course you were okay, how could you not be? You were fine, everything was fine.
For the most part, people seemed to believe you. All except for one person, that is.
Jennifer.
She always seemed to know when something was wrong, and you could tell she knew you were lying when you forced laughter or faked a smile, even if she didn't say it out loud. She noticed a hell of a lot more than you would have given her credit for.
She noticed the way you started wearing only long sleeves, even on hot days.
She noticed the way you started eating less and less, often times skipping lunch altogether.
She noticed the way you only seemed genuinely happy when you were with her, almost as if it was the only time you were physically able to.
Although she desperately wanted to comfort you, she didn't know how to confront you on such a topic, so she kept quiet. She hoped that for the time being, her presence would be enough; and it was, up until the very moment it wasn't.
Nearly a week had gone by, and you hadn't been at school. In fact, you hadn't contacted her at all, not even to tell her why you were gone. Jennifer vowed that she'd get to the bottom of it, even if she knew her snooping wouldn't make you happy.
She showed up at your house the next day, arms full of uncompleted school work from the days you missed. At that point you'd trusted her enough to give her a spare key, so she didn't even have to bother knocking before letting herself in.
Your bedroom was the first place she visited, giving two brief knocks on your door as a sign she was there.
"Go away," your muffled, sad sounding voice said from inside.
"It's Jennifer, I'm here with your school stuff," she said. "Now, are you going to let me in, or do I have to break the door down?" She had a joking tone, but something told you she wouldn't necessarily be against doing just that.
"Alright, fine. Just gimme a sec."
When you opened the door, she saw the ever constant bags under your eyes had gotten significantly worse, as if you hadn't slept in days.
"Come in, I guess," you mumbled, stepping aside so she could enter your room.
It was a mess. Clothes were heaped up in large piles on the floor and the small garbage can you kept by your desk was overflowing with trash.
You flopped down onto your equally filthy bed, kicking a half empty party sized bag of chips onto the floor as you did so.
Jennifer set your school stuff down on your desk before making her way over to you. Her nose crinkled up in disgust as she tried to find a clean place to sit on your bed before realizing it was a lost cause and sitting down anyway.
"Are you okay? Because you've been acting really weird for the past few months or so, and I'm worried for you," she finally said after a moment of sitting together in silence.
"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." You gave her a smile that didn't reach your eyes.
"Bullshit, you're fine. If you were really fine you would have been at school this week. Now, tell me, what's really been going on?"
Your facade crumbled the second she asked that question, collapsing into her arms while you burst into tears.
"Everything's just so awful, Jen, and I don't see any way that things could get better."
She gave you an awkward pat on your back, clearly not expecting you to respond that way.
"Look, I know things might not be the best right now, but it will get better for you, I promise. One day, we're going to be old enough to be on our own, and then the two of us can leave this sorry ass town for good."
You looked up at her, teary eyed. "Really? You wanna run away some day, with me?"
"Of fucking course I do. Now, let's get you out of that disgusting hoodie so it can be washed, then we can order takeout and watch Mean Girls, how does that sound?"
You hung your head in shame. "Jen, I- I can't take off my hoodie."
"Well, why not?" She asked, confused.
"Because, I... I relapsed," you whispered, tears threatening to escape the corners of your eyes.
"Hey, it's alright. I'm not upset, okay? I'm proud of you that you made it this far," she gently comforted you. "Do you need me to clean the cuts for you?"
You nodded, afraid if you tried to speak again you'd resume crying.
Jennifer took you to the bathroom, using soap and water to clean the fresh scars on your arms. Once that was done, she did her best to tidy your bed so the two of you could sit on it together while you watched the movie.
You gave a soft smile as you watched her, realizing two things at once. First, you were in love with your best friend, and second, you were the happiest you'd been in a while.
~
{Divider by @kukatz }
Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna added to my taglist?
🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry
287 notes · View notes
mejomonster · 3 months
Text
Do i. Write comedy?
0 notes
dolliestfairy · 11 months
Text
𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛 ཐིiཋྀ ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ،
billy loomis, stu macher, carrie white, and jennifer check falling in love with beautiful!fem!reader ཐི (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ཋྀ
Tumblr media
when i said beautiful!fem!reader, i really do meant it. it was you. this time i didnt tell what your size is. skinny, chubby, curvy, whatever, you're beautiful. and yes, reader skin color is not announced.
♫ Warning : mentions of killing in public, bullying, massacre, jennifer think of you as a rival (at first) and maybe some misspelled word, pet names (Muffin, Moon Of My Life, Sweet Cheeks) lmk if i miss anything.
☾ Billy loomis
Tumblr media
• first time he had laid his eyes on you he cant help but falling in love immediately.
• how could he not?! you're just so ethereal and beautiful.. too beautiful for this messed up world.
• he really adore the shape of your body. he does not care what your size or what your skin color is. small, medium, large, extra large, white, black, he doesnt care. he still love you.
• if someone talks bad about you, you best believe they're gonna be the next victim and they're gonna popped out in the news all over the town one week later.
• he also have a petname for you. he sometimes called you "Muffin" but if he's really in the mood or if he's just like being a gentleman for absolute no reason, he's gonna call you "Moon of my Life".
• really adores you. and always determined to keep you as his and his alone. he doesnt like sharing. so this man is kinda possessive over you.
• i mean he doesnt want to lose the Moon of his life so he had to keep you safe. if theres someone that have a plan to keep you away from him, they're gonna be dead in a second, it doesnt matter if he had to killed them in public where everyone could watch him with bare eyes, he's gonna show them what he would and can do if someone dared to take away the Moon of his Life.
☾ Stu Macher
Tumblr media
• meet you at a party, in his house, periodt. he was chillin and drunk with his friend on a couch until his eyes snap at one of the gorgeous lady he'd ever seen which is you.
• he fell in love much faster than his buddies, and when fell, he fell HARD. so the second he sees you, he get his ass up the couch and immediately walking towards you, and what you gonna see is that you gonna see some lanky and tall man walking towards you with unconscious face while complimenting you.
• you think he's just drunk so you wouldnt mind him.
• but oh.. you were wrong. the morning where the party was over and he was all sleeping in the couch, after we woke up he kinda blank off a bit, and he sees the mess in his house from the night party. but the second he remembered the party he also remember you, the lovely lady he was compliment on.
• he suddenly feel his cheeks hotter while imagining about you, he can feel his heart fluttering as well so he want to see you again.
• luckily for him, you were actually in the same school with him. and you are practically a new kid.
• he's determined to be your first friend in this school, so he just go straight to you and introduce himself with his goofy attitude.
• he also apologize about the night party about him being so unconscious but he assure you that he can still remember you so thats why he's really determined to have you.
• it didnt take long for him to confess his feelings for you.
• he's over the moon when you accept him. he felt like he was the luckiest guy in the world.
• he promise you and the stars that he would keep you safe and comfortable around him, he would never let anything hurt you. and if it does, then they have to face the horrifying side about Stu Macher.
• and i'm telling you, it is not pleasureable to see it.
☾ Carrie white
Tumblr media
• first she met you at the bathroom she thinks she's gonna get bullied from you, but instead, you were asking is she was okay. in which she nodd.
• she sees you walk out of the bathroom after asking her. she cant help but have some weird feelings about you.
• she never see anyone would ask her if she was okay, well not anyone as beautiful as you. so you can say that this girl was confused yet shock by your questioning.
• her romantic feelings start when she was bullied by some cheerleader group. she witnessing the fact that you were protecting her, stood up for her.
• after the bullies left, she look at you and ask why you were helping her in which you replied "do i really need a reason to help innocent people?"
• you were special, says carrie to herself, she cant believe someone as pretty as you would want to protect her from the bullies alone.
• later on at the prom she notice that you were not there at the prom.
• and when the prom hell incident is happening, and after she murder everyone including her mother, her first instinct was to find you.
• she quickly discovered where you live, she knock the bell at your door house and when you open it, you were getting a sudden hug from a crying carrie.
• you notice her bloody appereance so you take her inside and cleaning her. she hug you one more time before going to bed and say "i wouldnt forgive myself if i lose you."
• and you know she really mean it.
☾ Jennifer Check
Tumblr media
• first time she met you, she thinks you're gonna be her rival because the amount of beauty you had in you.
• she cant help but feel a little bit of envy at that time (although she would rather die than admitting the fact that she was envy).
• so thats why at first she seems like she dislike you and she does. you at that time notice her disliking towards you so you ask about it to her.
• she just said to you that it doesnt matter and its not important to talk about.
• but her disliking towards you are kind of reduce after you try to explain to her gently that you dont have any bad intention about being her rival or enemy.
• you ask her if you both can be friends in which she rolled her eyes and say "yeah, whatever."
• and after being friends with you, she then know what kind of girl you are and thats where the romantic feelings start appearing.
• she sees your good heart and your strong willing along with your beautiful appereance, and that is making her love you even more.
• until at that time she ask you to go a Mall to shop clothes and stuff, and when you guys on a restaurant, she ask you out on a date
• and this lady was so happy when you accept it. she plans the most beautiful date she could ever imagine in her head.
• and it was going on perfectly. and at that time also she grab your palm hand and said "i really love to have you, sweet cheeks." while smiling at you.
• but one thing is that, she also kind of worry about the fact that she was a succubus. so thats why she tried to play her role as smooth as possible. she needs you to trust her enough that you will be loyal even if you find out that she eats Mankind.
• but overall, beside the bad side of her, she really does love you.
1K notes · View notes
archivomeow · 1 month
Text
scars of the past.
Tumblr media
worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist
a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.
description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.
warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.
— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!
You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.
The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.
Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.
Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.
Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.
“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.
On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.
You fucking hated this job.
The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.
“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.
“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.
You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.
You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.
“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.
“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”
Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.
“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”
You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.
“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.
“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”
You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”
“How did you know so fast?”
He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?
Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.
“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.
“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.
That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.
“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.
You’re okay… You’re okay…
You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.
“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”
Fucking profilers.
“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.
194 notes · View notes
ang3l-fac33 · 2 months
Note
Can I request Angel Dust and his fem BFF reader, who also works for Valentino, buying a bottle of fireball and watching random movies (Probably something like Jennifer's Body) while cuddling Fat Nuggets after they've both had a shitty day? Sweet Lucifer, I would kill to be his best friend!!
angel dust x BFF! fem! reader.
genre: oneshot
Tumblr media
“you alright toots?” angel dust quirked a brow at you, watching you carefully as you sprawled out on his couch. he had a bottle of fireball in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. he poured the liquid into the glass as he waited for a response.
you groaned, which was muffled due to your arms covering your face. you’re bones ached from all the work today, and you could feel the signs of a terrible headache creeping up on you, making things worse.
when you didn’t respond with words angel dust’s eyes softened with sympathy. he knew that you had a rough day today, he did too. when working for valeninto there was going to be a lot of bad days. he knew that all too well.
but working for valentino was something the two of you bonded on, making what your friendship was today. of course it wasn’t all the two of you had together, but it played a big part in it. a lot of shit talking about val would be done, making the stressful days a little bit better. but he could see that today was not a ‘talk shit’ day, rather a relax and drink day.
“i’ve got your favorite right here for ya.” angel smirked, holding up the glass of fireball in his hand. you immediately lifted your head, your tired eyes looking interested, making angel dust laugh in amusement.
“of course alcohol would get your ass into gear.” he gave a sharp toothed grin, a mocking look in his eyes as he handed you the glass. it was all light hearted banter, the both of you knowing that anything rude you said wasn’t the truth.
you scoff and roll your eyes, snatching the glass from angel’s hand. “i need you to shut the hell up. you’re making my headache worse.” you grumbled, downing the liquid in one go.
angel dust snorted, not seeming all that offended. he poured you another drink before lightly shoving your legs. “whatever. just move your damn legs so i can sit down.”
you huffed but didn’t complain as you moved your legs, allowing some room for angel to sit, to which he immediately does so with a heavy sigh. there was a moment of silence before angel spoke again.
“..soo you want to watch that movie or nah?” he said with a small smile, his demeanor more relaxed now. you sighed and nodded, feeling yourself relax a bit at the feel of angel’s warmth next to you. he always somehow managed to make you feel better, and that was a reason why he was your best friend.
angel grinned and grabbed the remote, instantly turning on jennifer’s body. as the movie began to play angel downed his shot of fireball, smacking his lips in satisfaction afterwards.
as the movie started something butting against angel’s legs caught his attention, and he looked down to see the sight of fat nuggets. he was looking up at him with those adorable round eyes of his, something that always made angel’s heart melt.
“nuggs!” angel cooed, leaning down to take the pig into his arms. you raised your brows, snorting in amusement. “you and that damn pig of yours.. sometimes i think you like him more than me.”
“maybe i do.” angel responded with a smirk, cradling fat nuggets in his arms. “fat nuggets doesn’t talk back to me like you do.”
you roll your eyes, playing hurt. “i got second place by a pig. ouch.”
angel laughed before holding up fat nuggets to your face. “can you blame me? look how adorable he is!” fat nuggets made a small little oinking noise that made your heart swell with love for the little guy.
no matter how much you pretended to be annoyed by the little critter, you loved him. you gave him a small scratch on the cheek, to which the pig responded with a lick to your hand.
angel dust moved fat nuggets to rest comfortably between the two of you, and the demon pig laid down with a snort of satisfaction.
as the movie progressed you started to feel better and more relaxed. it was really times like this you were glad that angel dust was your best friend. who could ask for me?
(note: this was rushed at the end but i hope you liked it none the less! <3 also this isn’t proofread)
109 notes · View notes
ssahoodrathotchner · 11 months
Text
I’m Lost Without You
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: when a case goes wrong, Aaron’s the only one who can get you out of your head
Word Count: 1.5k words
Warnings: swearing, angst, blood, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, Aaron being sweet
A/N: aaaaaand i’m back again with some angst. This idea literally wouldn’t leave me alone so here we are. Somewhat inspired by lady macbeth’s “out damned spot” soliloquy but like only in the hand washing and not the actual stabbing of a guy bit
Masterlist
---
There’s blood under your fingernails and it won’t go away.
The fluorescent lighting of the police station bathroom illuminates the red under your nails, taunting you with the results of your failure.
You scrub harder, bordering on frantic as pink water swirls its way down the drain.
Your fault.
---
It was too easy.
Women in their twenties going missing from a college campus after attending events put on by the history faculty.
Narrowing down the lists of professors, students, and staff led to three possible unsubs, one of which had a previous record for assault and battery six years prior.
It was too easy.
Everything was seamless. Reid’s geographic profile, Garcia’s information on the unsub’s records, Emily and JJ’s deductions based on victim type all led you to believe that you had the right person and prevented her from finding the next victim.
The team cornered the unsub in her office during a meeting with her TA, who was part of the whole takedown operation—your idea.
But.
Your fault your fault your fault.
As soon as Morgan breached the doorway the professor, Dr. Jennifer Coleman, pulled a handgun from her desk and shot her TA. Point blank. In the chest.
The rest of the takedown is a blur.
Immediately, you pushed past Morgan and began assessing Celia – the TA, her name is Celia—while the rest of the team swarms in around you to subdue Dr. Coleman.
Erratic heartbeat, stuttering breaths, wide eyes. Wide green eyes.
Your hands go to her chest, pressing down on the wound, staunching the blood as much as you can with your bare hands.
Not enough not enough not enough.
It’s not enough.
Celia Townsend is declared dead on the arrival of the EMTs, weeks from graduating with her masters in anthropology.
She was twenty-seven.
Your fault your fault your fault.
You watch as the body bag is zipped up.  
There’s blood under your fingernails.
---
The door creaks open behind you, and your eyes flash up to the mirror to see who’s joined you in your futile attempt to rid your hands of the blood.
“Hey.”
It’s Emily.
You meet her eyes in the mirror before turning your attention back to your hands.
“Hey,” you say softly.
“You’ve been in here a while,” she starts, cautious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m—” your voice catches.
You scrub harder.
Your fault your fault your fault.
“Hey,” she says again, moving to catch your elbow. “Hey, careful, careful. Your hands…” She trails off as you take a moment to look over at her.
“There’s…” you pause. “The blood. Under my nails. I can’t get it to go away.”
Gently, Emily takes one of your hands in hers and holds it up and you can see it. See the stains under your nails, the signs of your futile attempt to save the life of Celia. The girl you sent to her death.
You hold your breath as Emily tilts your hand under the light, the blood a dull red where you haven’t scrubbed hard enough.
“I have just the thing,” she states, squeezing your hand before ducking back out the door.
You turn back to the sink and immerse your hands once again as the door swings shut.
The blood is still fucking there.
---
It’s Aaron who comes through the door after an indeterminate amount of time has passed.
You glance at him in the mirror before turning your attention back to your hands.
Your fault your fault your fault.
He moves until he’s next to you, silent. Watching.
“Sweetheart—” he begins softly. “Can you take a step back for me?”
You exhale sharply. “Not until it’s gone.”
“Until what’s gone?”
“The blood, Aaron. Celia’s blood. It won’t come out from under my nails,” your voice shakes as you pause and watch the water swirl down the drain under your hands.
“Sweetheart,” he tries again. “There’s no more blood.”
What?
“No, it’s—right there, it’s there, Aaron, see?” you frantically point at your hands, the red under your nails, the red that’s haunted you since watching the ambulance pull away. “It’s right there!”
Why can’t he see it?
Aaron’s hands engulf yours and he pulls them to his chest, turning your body into his as he steps closer until your head is tucked under his chin.
The water shuts off, but you can still feel it running over your hands, through your fingers. Warm. Incredibly warm and real and red—
“Take a breath, Sweetheart. The blood is gone, it’s gone,” he says, holding both your hands in one of his you he can tilt your chin up until your eyes meet.
“But—”
“Shhhh it’s gone. It’s all gone, Sweetheart.”
Aaron studies your face for a moment before something in his own expression fractures and he wraps both arms around you, tucking his face against the top of your head as the gently rocks the both of you.
You let your eyes close and you lean into his body, grasping weakly at his jacket.
He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the two of you don’t let go of each other.
Then the tears start.
Between one moment and the next your breath catches and tears start to seep from under your closed eyes. Face buried in Aaron’s chest, you give in and let yourself cry.
You cry for Celia, for the life she could have lived. For your own guilt and the weight that’s been steadily crushing your lungs since your hands made contact with Celia’s blood.
You cry for yourself. For the knowledge that you can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try or how good your plan is.
You can’t.
Not your fault.
You become vaguely aware that Aaron’s muttering reassurances into your hair, and you listen closer to hear a litany of “You tried, Sweetheart, it’s okay. You got the blood, you got it. Take a breath, darling, it’s okay. I love you, and it’s okay.”
It’s easy to lean further into his embrace, to insistently push your head under his chin and exhale slowly as you let the tears finish tracking down your cheeks.
“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, “I know you won’t, not now, but. I just. I don’t want to be alone,” you take a shaky breath. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Never,” you feel him breathe against the top of your head. Aaron pulls back to press a long kiss to your forehead. “Never, Sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Love,” gratitude evident in the way your body loses its tension.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Aaron asks hesitantly, hands tightening around your body.
“Not now,” you respond immediately. “I can’t—it’s just—not now. Later, I think. Later.”
“That’s fine, Sweetheart. Later is fine. Or never, but I’m always here if you want to talk.”
He pulls you closer for a moment before pulling back to tip your head up, placing a kiss on your cheek before turning your face to repeat the action on the other side.
You open your eyes, prying apart eyelids that feel too heavy, and look directly into the warm gaze that awaits yours.
“…I want to go home,” you confess. “I can’t be here any longer, Aaron.”
“So we go home, Sweetheart. I’ll tell the team to rally and we’ll have the jet ready in two hours. They should be wrapping up the interrogation shortly,” he responds with a soft smile.
The relief that spreads through your body is a welcome reprieve from the frantic terror that had taken over your mind for however long it’s been.
A thought strikes you “My hands—the blood,” you start.
“—Isn’t there anymore, Sweetheart. Take a look,” Aaron consoles you, pulling both of your hands into your field of vision. “The blood is gone.”
Slowly, you let your vision drift to your hands, expecting to see the reddish stain that you haven’t been able to escape and yet—
It’s gone.
The red is gone.
You pull away from Aaron completely, holding your hands up to the light, twisting them back and forth to catch every possible angle and it’s gone. The blood under your nails is finally gone.
Slumping forward, you close your eyes as your face falls into the crook of Aaron’s neck, shuddering through your next few breaths.
“It’s gone,” you mumble.
“It is, Sweetheart,” he answers. “Let’s go home.”
“Home,” you agree. “Let’s go home, Love.”
Pressing another kiss to your forehead, Aaron takes a moment to swipe a damp paper towel across your face and take away the dried tear tracks, tenderly turning your head back and forth to make sure he got all the remnants of your breakdown.
You lean forward, slowly, letting Aaron meet you halfway in a kiss that soothes your nerves in its familiarity. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull back enough to let your lips rest lightly on Aaron’s, enough to brush his as you smile for the first time in what seems like an eternity.
“Thank you, Love,” you say softly. “I love you.”
“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he responds, just as gentle.
And you know that Aaron, always Aaron, will be there on the good days and the bad no matter what.
--- Taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @averyhotchner @prentisswrites @mylovelysnowflake @hqtchner @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @emlynblack @clarawatson @andromedasstarship @madamsnape921 @mac99martin @midsummernightdream @itsmytimetoodream @homoose @whosscruffylooking @agentaaronhotass @thenewnormalforensicator  @myloveofcmreid @ssahotchie @romanogersendgame
502 notes · View notes
promiscuouscutie · 8 months
Text
All Yours pt. 5
Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut
Part 6
Warnings: mentions of attempted murder, Ethan having dirty thoughts as usual lol
You put your dishes away, barely listening to Anika’s voice. You were thinking about Ethan. You wish he kissed you earlier. It looked like he wanted to. Why didn’t he? Was there something on my face? Did he all of sudden lose interest in me? You began to feel insecure.
“Did you even hear what I said?” Anika almost shouts. Your eyes widen and you apologize. “I’m sorry! I know you’re worried about our friends. I am too.”
“Are you?” You felt taken back, offended. Anika can see your obviously hurt expression, immediately looking down at the wooden floor. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I didn’t actually mean that.”
“Then what did you mean, Ani?” You snap at her with an attitude. She was surprised by your tone. She sighs heavily and leans against her hand on the counter.
“Mindy’s just getting to me is all. You know she’s been pointing fingers at you, me, and Ethan.” You sigh, agreeing with her. Mindy was a horror fanatic through and through. She knew all the tells, all the tropes. After the murders on campus, she immediately started accusing you and the others. You knew she meant well; she’s scared. You all were.
“It can’t be one of us,” you state.
“Why not?”
“Because I refuse to accept that. We’re all good friends! We haven’t done anything to each other.”
“But one of us could have a secret vendetta. Did you ever think about that?” You practically laugh at the idea.
“I don’t think any of us are capable of killing. I know I’m certainly not. I couldn’t take a life.”
“Well you can tell Mindy that. Because she still thinks it could be you. Actually, she’s been putting all her money on Ethan.” Your ears perk up at the mention of his name. Ethan? Sweet Ethan?
“No way! It can’t be him.”
“Oh? Why not?” Anika smirks. You know she’s not blind. You care about him more than the others, whether you’ll admit it or not. Her question is a test.
“Ethan freaks out any time he sees an insect. You really think someone like that could kill a person?”
“He could just pretend to freak out so you’ll comfort him. You always do,” she points out. You thought about it; she wasn’t totally wrong. You did always calm him down. One time he saw a spider in his room and he practically jumped to the ceiling shouting cuss words. You calmly took the spider and brought it outside, careful not to hurt it. He looked incredibly anxious when you held it, telling him it was going to be okay. But faking it? No way.
Anika’s phone vibrates. Yours does the same. You both read the group text sent by Tara, and the color drains from your faces.
“Oh my god!” You both grab your bags and rush out the door, even forgetting to turn the TV off.
The whole group is gathered in Sam’s apartment, watching a movie to distract from the fear in the air. You were squished between Ethan and Mindy, keeping quiet.
30 minutes ago, you and Anika were comforting the Carpenter sisters. They were attacked by Ghostface, almost killed by a shotgun. Tara was hysterical, and Sam appeared shut down. Mindy and Chad arrived shortly after, and Ethan was the last to come. He claimed he was with his father, which you believed. Mindy was skeptical of course, but when was she not?
Chad suggested watching a movie to calm the nerves. After some debate, you all settled on Jennifer’s Body. Ethan chose to sit next to you before anyone else could claim the spot. Mindy took your left to sit with her girlfriend and the others were in chairs or on the floor.
Throughout the movie, you swore you could feel Ethan’s eyes on you. You felt his fingers graze your hand, as if debating to hold it. You thought it was cute. He’s too nervous to ask. You finally take his hand into yours and smile at him, as if to tell him it’s okay. His face reddens before he looks back at the TV, smiling.
He wants to kiss you so badly right now. He almost did earlier. He was so close, so close to feeling those soft lips on his. But no. Duty calls. He took his frustration out on the Carpenter sisters, hoping to kill them and make himself feel better. But they got away, damn them. Fucking bitches.
You notice Tara leaning on Chad’s shoulder, completely passed out. You could see her mascara under her eyes from the tears; she looked exhausted, mentally exhausted. You began to feel nervous. Would Ghostface attack you next? Mindy? Anika? Chad? Quinn? Ethan?
“Should I put her in her room?” Chad asks Sam. She sighs, staring at her little sister. “Yeah. Thanks, Chad.” Chad smiles and picks Tara up carefully, walking to her room. Sam sets the remote down on the coffee table and stands up from her chair.
“I’d like it if you all slept over. That way I know you’re all safe. I’ve got blankets and pillows. Just..figure out who’s sleeping where in here.”
You and the others nod before she walks off. The four of you look at each other awkwardly. Mindy yawns and stretches her arms up. “Well I say Ani and I get the couch since we’re a couple. You got a problem with that?”
“No,” you and Ethan say in sync. Mindy smiles. “Great! You guys can sleep on the floor.” Ethan rolls his eyes at her, which you notice. You laugh a little as you set your purse by a chair, planning to just sleep in it. Maybe your back would hurt a little in the morning, but it would be better than the pain from sleeping on the floor.
Ethan brings the other chair next to yours, as if to sleep next to you. Sam comes back out with pillows and blankets, handing them to all of you. “If you need anything else, let me know. I’ll be up for a little longer.”
Mindy and Anika cuddle on the couch, already passed out. The only ones watching the movie were you and Ethan. You were covering yourself with a gray blanket, holding yourself for warmth. Ethan is still awake, occasionally stealing glances at you.
You look back at the girls, checking if they were still asleep. You slide your hand under Ethan’s blanket, searching for his hand. Ethan sees this, almost flinching. In his eyes, it looked like you were going for his dick. You? Being inappropriate? Right in front of your friends?
Of course you weren’t doing that. You found his hand and squeezed it, taking him out of his fantasies. “Ethan? Can I ask you something?” You whisper to him.
“Anything,” he smiles.
“Were you gonna kiss me earlier?” You ask. Ethan looks at your lips. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you do it before you left me?”
“I thought the moment was ruined.” You sit up in your chair, pulling the blanket down to your lap. You start staring at his lips too, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Would you kiss me now?” Ethan’s brain starts to combust. You amazing, pretty girl.
“Do you want that?” He asks. He wants to make sure this is what you want. He wants you to feel safe with him. You move closer to him and touch his shoulder, as if to hold onto him. “Please, Ethan? I wanna kiss you.” Your voice sounds a little whiny, sending Ethan over the edge. If you used that voice on him again, he might just crumble to your feet.
He has imagined this moment, dreamt about it. He can’t mess up. He wants it to be perfect for you.
He presses his lips against yours, and your hands go to cup his face. This was heaven for him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Your body, right in his hands. He grips your waist, squeezing it. You feel him pull you closer, and you let him. You want to be against him, to feel his warmth. Where is this going? Are we just kissing? Is something else going to happen?
You try to look over at the couch, trying to check if the girls were still asleep. When you break the kiss, you hear Ethan whine a little at the loss of your lips. He starts to kiss down your neck as his hands wander downward. You gasp, almost too loud. “Ethan! What if someone sees?” You nervously whisper to him.
He pauses. I don’t care. I’d fuck you right now regardless. But you didn’t think like that; he knew that. He looks over his shoulder, feeling relieved to see the girls still passed out. “They’re asleep.” He looks at you again, noticing how you’re fiddling with the string on your shorts. You look nervous. It’s cute to him. He likes that. But what if you weren’t ready to do more?
He takes his hands off your ass, moving back to your waist. “We can stop if you want,” he says softly. He notices your eyes shift down, avoiding his.
You like kissing him. You like touching him. You’ve been thinking about him recently in a romantic way. And yet, you didn’t feel ready to go further. You felt embarrassed, immature. He squeezes your waist again. “I mean it. We can stop.”
“Okay,” you finally say. His hands leave your waist. “Do you wanna go to sleep?” He asks, as if to ease you.
“Mhm. I’m feeling tired.” He nods, pulling your blanket up for you. You grab onto it, holding it over your chest. You lean against his shoulder, still wanting to be close to him. He allows this, accepts it immediately.
He watches you close your eyes, slowly drifting away. He smiles to himself. All mine. My sweet, dumb thing.
Tag-list: @ssnapsaurus @wenvierismycomfort @Iloyd907 @ch9mpi0n @c0untryclub @stabmemaybe @libraryfairy02
270 notes · View notes
raythekiller · 11 months
Text
. . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Welcome ˎˊ˗ ⌨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hi!! I'm Ray (they/he/it), hope you enjoy your stay!
(yall can send requests in EN, PT or ES)
˗ˏˋ requests: open ´ˎ˗
Tumblr media
╰┈➤ Rules
I write for: (BanningK's) Jeff The Killer, Ticci Toby, BEN, Eyeless Jack, Masky/Tim & Hoodie/Brian (u can request others tho, I'll probably check the creepypasta and write for them anyway, but these are my main ones) (pls request some creepy women I'm begging)
needless to say I won't do stuff like pedophilia, zoophilia, non-con or anything like that. I also won't do yandere for now.
NSFW however is totally allowed.
honestly just don't be weird. if you don't know if I'm comfortable with something, send it in and I'll let you know.
the reader is always gender neutral unless stated otherwise. I'll also write non x reader content (like general headcanons and such)
I also take drawing suggestions (not "requests" cause there's no guarantee I'll actually do it)
I delete asks when I don't have any ideas for them, so if I didn't answer yours, this is why. You can send smth else tho
tags: #ray.writes (for headcanons/scenarios) #ray.draws (for art) #ray.talks.shit (for random asks/ramblings) #oc.lane hellshire (for stuff about my child)
Tumblr media
╰┈➤ Masterlist (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)
GENERAL HEADCANONS
- ,, # JEFF THE KILLER MASTERLIST - ,, # BEN DROWNED MASTERLIST
- ,, # TICCI TOBY MASTERLIST
- ,, # EYELESS JACK MASTERLIST
- ,, # LAUGHING JACK MASTERLIST
- ,, # MASKY MASTERLIST
- ,, # Personality HC (Jeff, Toby, Ben, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Mean S/O With A Soft Spot For Him (Hoodie)
- ,, # Their Petpeeves (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Realizing They're In Love (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Plus Sized Goth S/O (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Their Ideal S/O (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Their Music Taste (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Quiet Reader (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Reader Who Dissociates (Toby, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Corruption Kink (Hoodie)
- ,, # NSFW Headcanons (Nina, Jason)
- ,, # General Headcanons (Kate, Clockwork, Jane, Nina)
- ,, # Bimbo Reader (Nina)
- ,, # Their Kinks (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Reader Sucking In Their Stomach (EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Their Music Taste (Nina, Clockwork, Kate, Jane, Helen)
- ,, # Reader With A Quiet Voice (Toby, Nina)
- ,, # Reader With Narcolepsy (Clockwork, Hoodie)
- ,, # Reader Gets Hurt (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Nina, Kate, Jane)
- ,, # SFW And NSFW Headcanons (Lane - OC)
- ,, # Femme S/O (Clockwork)
- ,, # NSFW Alphabet (Nina)
- ,, # Reader Happy Stimming (Toby, EJ, Clockwork, Jane)
- ,, # S/O Making Them Jealous (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Lane - OC)
- ,, # General Headcanons (Cody)
- ,, # LGBT Headcanons (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Candypop, Masky, Hoodie, Cody, Helen, Clockwork, Nina, Kate, Jane)
- ,, # Their Ideal S/O (Clockwork, Kate, Nina, Jane)
- ,, # Jennifer's Body-Like Entity Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
- ,, # Reader With Anxiety Tics (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Kate, Nina)
- ,, # Reader With A Thick Accent (Jeff, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie, Helen)
- ,, # Innocent-Looking Hypersexual Reader (Toby, EJ, Nina)
- ,, # General Headcanons (Lane - OC)
- ,, # Vampire Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork)
- ,, # Reader Who Gets Tired When It Rains (Toby, EJ, Clockwork, Jane)
- ,, # Slendermansion Headcanons
- ,, # Reader Who Uses ASL (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Hoodie, Jane)
- ,, # SFW Headcanons (Nina)
- ,, # Shy Reader (Jeff, Ben, Toby, EJ, Masky, Hoodie)
Tumblr media
ASK GAME
- ,, # Dislikes Headcanons (Lane - OC)
Tumblr media
SCENARIOS/DRABBLES
- ,, # Lane The Lurker (Lane - OC) (Backstory)
- ,, # Heaven And Back (Hoodie x Prude! Reader) (NSFW/suggestive)
- ,, # Mine (Lane - OC x GN! Reader) (NSFW)
Tumblr media
ART
- ,, # Nap time (Sally)
- ,, # Goofy guy (Jason The Toymaker)
- ,, # Lane The Lurker (Lane - OC)
- ,, # Aishite (Lane - OC)
- ,, # Brahms The Butcher (Brahms - OC)
- ,, # Fanservice (Lane - OC)
- ,, # Amigos (Lane - OC, Ghost Boy - OC)
- ,, # Plushie (Lane - OC)
ANONS MY BELOVEDS
🪦 Anon
🫀 Anon
🦇 Anon
📚 Anon
Caliginous Anon
👾 Anon
🔪 Anon
🥩 Anon
🐚 Anon
🧸 Anon
🦈 Anon
Tulip Anon
🦐 Anon
🫧 Anon
🚙 Anon
🐦‍⬛ Anon
🐇 Anon
🌙 Anon
🌻 Anon
🍬 Anon
🗯️ Anon
🍒 Anon
🌲 Anon
505 notes · View notes
topguncortez · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Truth Hurts || Whumptober Day 1 - J. Seresin
whumtpober masterlist || whumptober taglist form
Tumblr media
synopsis: You never imagined sharing your deepest darkest secrets in front of two monsters and your best friend. Loosely based on the book “Still Beating” by Jennifer Hartmann.
@ailesswhumptober whump prompt: drugging @ailesswhumptober
word count: 4.5k
warnings: kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, murder, character death, truth serum, drugging, forced proximity.
Tumblr media
You liked to think that when you were to die, it would happen quickly. 
A car accident, a gunshot wound, a failed ejection, ingesting too many sleeping pills. 
You wanted it fast. You didn’t want to suffer. You didn’t want your death to be one that would be talked about twenty years from now and people’s eyes would automatically fill with tears when it was spoken about. You didn’t want to meet the same fate as your husband, Bradley, had met nearly a year ago. 
It’s funny how things don’t seem to work in your favor. 
Six days. Six long, excruciating days of pain, starvation, and abuse. That’s how long you had been locked in this dungeon of horrors, alongside your best friend, Jake. You always thought that these sorts of things only happen in the movies. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to fall for a woman on the side of the road who claimed her baby was choking. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to make Jake stop the car so you could run out and go help her. You also didn’t think Jake was dumb enough to get out of the car and try to rescue you from the man dressed head to toe in black who held your passive body. 
But, here you were. Chained like animals in some psycho couple’s basement, waiting for them to come down and do whatever horrible things they had on the dockette for the day. 
“They’re probably sending out a search party,” Jake said, from across the room in his own cage. Whoever had taken you had done this before. They had a whole set-up down here with chains and cages that resembled jail cells. You looked over at Jake, giving him the same glare you had been giving him every day since day one. He, somehow, was hanging onto his optimism, while yours had left almost instantly. 
That’s how Jake has always been. He’s always been this bright light in your life, and you should appreciate it. You really wish that you could appreciate it, but something had died inside you a year ago when you had buried Bradley. You weren’t the same happy-go-lucky girl who grew up with an amazing family and got to do the coolest job in the world alongside her husband and her childhood best friend. Instead, you were just the shell of the person you once were. 
“I-I know they are. I know they would have the best-” 
“Jake,” You sighed, closing your eyes. He knew better than to continue on. He had never been on the receiving end of your anger before being trapped down here. You could be volatile, and spit venom when you needed to. You had already apologized profusely for the words that you had said to Jake after what was now probably the worst day of your life, but Jake forgave you. 
The silence between you stretched on for a moment, the only sound being the steady tapping of dripping water from the leaky faucet in the corner of the basement. You had never been so envious of concrete before. 
“Do you miss him?” Jake asked quietly. You turned your head over to him, raising your eyebrows in a silent way to tell him to elaborate, “Bradley.” 
Your eyes went from Jake’s forrest green ones, down to your dirty feet. 
Of course, you missed Bradley. 
You missed everything about him. 
You missed his laugh. His horrible dad jokes. His honey-brown eyes. His loud, off-key singing. His sunkissed, warm skin. His awful dancing. His soft and sweet kisses. Hell, you even missed yelling at him about leaving the toilet seat up. 
But most of all, you missed his strong, comforting hugs that could make a grown man cry. Bradley Bradshaw had always felt like home to you, and you missed your home. 
“Every single day,” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. 
Every single day, you wished that you could turn back the clock. That you could’ve been the one who was at home that night. The detective told you that it was a “home invasion gone wrong”. A horrible case of wrong place, wrong time. But you always believed that there was more to it. That the detective with the large belly and graying hair just wanted to move on to a bigger, worse case than this. You had pushed and pushed them to look at the case just a little bit more. 
“Sweetheart, no one would want to kill one of America’s finest. The case is closed. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 
But he wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. You found his body in the kitchen of your shared home. Those words bounced around in your head on the darkest nights, as you sat on the ground in the room that was supposed to be a nursery. Bradley had been so excited about starting a family with you. The way his eyes lit up every single time he’d see a baby on the street or would look at baby clothes at Target. All you had wanted was to be able to give him the child he longed for. 
“I was going to tell him,” You said, leaning your head back against the cold cement wall. Jake looked up at you. Your face was dirty, and the grime of being without a shower for nearly a week starting to show. Your eyes, the ones Jake used to think resembled the earth, were dark. Your hair was limp and greasy around your shoulders, “I was going to tell him that I. . . That I was pregnant, that night.” 
Jake sucked in a breath and looked down at the ground. He had been with you, cramped in a small bathroom at the post exchange on base as you took the pregnancy test. You had been so happy, he swore he had never seen a brighter smile on your face before. Jake held you tightly as you cried tears of joy, and immediately called your mom to tell her. 
Jake had also been by your side, picking you up off the ground as blood ran down your thighs, just a mere days after Bradley’s death. He never wanted to hear the sounds of pure anguish again. The sound of your wails as you stood in the kitchen, haunted Jake at night. The sight of all the blood made him sick, and the scent of copper was forever engrained into his mind. 
“He would’ve been so excited,” Jake said, looking up at you. 
“I imagine it was a girl. He was always meant to be a girl dad.” 
Bradley had a small pocketbook that he would keep with him, jotting down names that would come to him throughout the day that he liked. They ranged from names of famous rockstars to biblical names. 
‘What do you mean Jebbidiah isn’t a good name?’ 
‘Jeb Bush. . .’ 
‘You got a point.” 
You chuckled at the memory, shaking your head lightly. You and Bradley had narrowed his list of nearly a hundred names down to at least two, one for a boy and one for a girl. 
“Lennon,” You smiled, “Lennon Dhani Bradshaw. Dhani, spelled like how George named his son. You know how much I love-” 
“The Beatles, I know,” Jake nodded. 
You gave him a quick glance and then went back to your little glimpse of happiness, “My favorite song was-” 
“Here Comes the Sun and In My Life, I know,” Jake said again. 
The silence stretched back over the two of you. You used to mind the silence between you and Jake. Before, it was that comforting silence that signified the strong bond between the two of you. You used to be able to sit in the same room, on opposite ends of the couch, reading books or scrolling through your phones, neither one feeling the need to fill the air with conversation. 
Now, you feared the silence. 
You let out a sigh, before going to speak, “Jake, I-”
The sound of the large door at the top of the stairs cut you off. The sick feeling of dread filled your body, as thudding footsteps made their way down the crikey wooden stairs. Your body started to tremble as your kidnappers came down for their daily routine. 
Bonnie and Earl, are two odd, sick ducks that somehow, some way met each other and fell in love. Bonnie had gone on and on the first night, while Earl acted out his vile assaults on you, about their “love” story. Apparently, it was love at first sight, and the two got married within a month of knowing each other. They also kidnapped their first couple within that same month. 
“Rise and shine!” Bonnie’s chipper voice sounded out like nails on a chalkboard. Your throat felt tight as Earl’s eyes locked directly on you. Bonnie walked over to you, grabbing your chin with her cold, dainty hand, “Are you ready, Bunny?” 
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked in her cold blue irises. After the first night, you had hoped to maybe reach out to Bonnie, to break through to her and get her to let you go. What sane woman would be okay with the monstrosities her husband acted out on women? Apparently, Bonnie. 
“Too bad,” Bonnie chuckled, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to stand. Earl replaced Bonnie by standing in front of you, his hand already down his pants, jerking himself off. At this point in time, the routine was basically burned into the back of your eyelids. 
Earl takes Bonnie’s spot. Bonnie undoes Jake’s cuffs. Bonnie sits Jake down in a chair across from you and Earl. Jake hurls insults and threats at the two of them. Earl commits his heinous crimes. Earl and Bonnie leave the two of you alone in complete silence. 
You were starting to wonder if it would ever end. 
— — — 
“You know hanging is the worst way to go?” Jake said, cutting through the silence. 
It was day twenty-one, and you had officially lost hope of ever making it out alive. Bonnie and Earl had been feeding you less and less, only a sandwich every two days instead of every day. You made sure that when you brushed your teeth, you took extra gulps of water, savoring the taste of it down your throat. 
“You don’t die instantly,” Jake continued, “You struggle, your lungs aching for air, you know what’s going on until the moment your neck snaps.” 
You looked over at him, seeing the dull look in his eyes as he stared off into space. You knew Jake started to come to terms with your current state. It made your heart ache to hear and see the optimism slip from his body. You weren’t sure when it happened, probably after day fourteen. 
Day Fourteen. 
The second worst day of your life. 
First, was losing Bradley.
Second, was watching as your friend stood defenseless and was forced to commit an act he’d rather take a bullet for. 
You had hardly ever seen Jake cry, but as he stood in front of you, emptying himself in you, he had broken down, whispering apologies into your dirty skin. His light green eyes had grown dark and dull as he was dragged away from you, leaving you cold and broken. Jake had refused to even look at you, turning his body to face away. You had told him several times throughout the night that you weren’t upset or mad, that you understood what he had to do. 
“I’m not mad at you. I understand it, I do. You did it to survive, Jake. I forgive you.”
You thought for sure that you were going to lose Jake after that. He didn’t speak for a whole day. After twenty-four hours in silence, the only sound was the occasional creak of the floorboards and the drips from the leaky pipe. You thought for sure that you would wake up and see Jake’s lifeless body on the floor. But instead, you woke up to his gentle, soft voice, singing. 
‘In My Life… I Love You More…’ 
“I’d say being stabbed to death is worse,” You said softly, “Yes, hanging is awful, but it only lasts a matter of seconds. Being stabbed? Can last for hours. Painful, agonizing hours, where you lie alone in your own blood, and can’t do anything but wait for someone to either find you or for the reaper to take you.” 
Jake felt a sudden rush of nausea run through his body at your words. His body felt hot as he looked over at you, sitting on the ground, absent-mindedly moving your foot back and forth over a crack in the cement. You always used to be the one who got sick at even the thought of blood. Now, to hear you talk so frankly about death, made goosebumps arise on Jake’s skin. 
“You think he struggled?” Jake whispered. 
“He fought back,” You sniffled, “The detective said he defense wounds on his arms. He always said he’d find a way to come home to me.” 
Jake could remember sitting in the stale, white-walled room with you as the detective handed you the manila folder that held the official autopsy report. Why you wanted to read it and see the photos of Bradley’s mutilated body, was beyond Jake. It was bad enough that he had to see the blood trail and stained red hands. But you stared at the pictures for hours. The pictures of the man you loved and the house that was now an active crime scene. 
The morning faded into day, as the shadows of the sun coming through the basement windows began to move. On day three, Jake taught you how to estimate the time by the position of the shadows on the cement wall. He guessed that the house faced towards the west, and every night as the sun began to set, your hair would have a certain warm glow to it. The two of you were playing your usual game of twenty-one questions, trying to pass the time until the inevitable happened. 
You were trying not to think of whatever horror could unfold today. It seemed that on every seventh day, something worse seemed to happen. Day Seven was the first day you were assaulted. Day fourteen was the day Jake was forced to hurt you. And now, you were waiting to see what day twenty-one had in store. 
Every time the sound of the basement door would open, a cold shiver would go down your spine, and you pulled your knees up to protect yourself. It was a futile chance at hopefully keeping Earl and Bonnie away from you, but it never worked. There seemed to be some charged energy between the two of them as Bonnie happily skipped down the stairs and stood outside of your cell as if you were an animal at the zoo. 
“Today is gonna be great!” She cheered, a sick smile on her face, “I want the girl first, baby. I know she’s got secrets to confess.” 
“Anything for you, honey bunny,” Earl cooed at his wife and placed a kiss on her lips. He then turned, digging the keys to your cell out of his pocket, “You must be waiting for today, bunny,��� Earl said to you, a sickening smirk on his face. He undid your cuffs like he always did, and led you over to the open space between yours and Jake’s cages. Instead of chaining you up to the post in the middle like he usually would, he sat you down in a chair. He chained your cuffs behind the back of your chair and chained down your ankles. 
Earl took a step back, admiring you like you were some type of animal he had just hunted down. You felt bile rising in your throat as he stepped towards you, his disgusting scent invading your senses. He smelled of sweat and blood, and his hands were dirty as he grabbed your chin in his hand, “You’re so beautiful, you know that, bunny?” 
You clenched your jaw tightly, keeping your eyes down at the floor, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, “I bet that’s why that boy of yours loved you so much.” 
You snapped your head up, “What?” 
Earl roared with laughter as he let go of your face and took a step back, “That’s what got your attention! Whew, and I was here thinking you were an idiot.” He wiped a tear from his face, stepping back to you and running a finger down your face, “That boy, what was his name? Bradley, was it? Handsome young man, so sad what you did to him.” 
“You know nothing,” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. 
“Everyone will know all, very, very soon, bunny. . . hold still.” 
“Wha-Fuck!” You cursed as you felt the pinch of a needle being injected into your neck. Your heart began to race as you looked in terror at Earl and now Bonnie who stood in front of you, “What did you do? What was that!?” 
Bonnie giggled and held up a vial in her hand, “Truth Serum. Made it myself!” Earl put his arm proudly around Bonnie, her face resembling a kid who just had sugar for the first time. 
“Is that going to kill her?” Jake yelled at Bonnie, who simply shrugged, “Hey! Y/N, look at me!” Jake rattled the chainlink that had been keeping you apart, “What the fuck did you do?!” 
It felt like you were being suffocated as you looked over at Jake. Your head began to swim, and your limbs felt like you could hardly hold yourself up anymore. Your body began to feel warm and tingly as a thin layer of sweat started to cover your body. The only thoughts in your head were that this was it. This was the moment in which you were going to die. In this dirty, dingy basement with your kidnappers watching and your best friend trying to fight his way towards you. 
Then, everything seemed to change. Every muscle started to contract, making you shiver violently. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been lit on fire, and a small scream left your body at the pain. You were scared your heart was going to explode from the sheer force of it beating in your chest. 
“It hurts!” You cried, pulling on your cuffs, “Help! It hurts!” 
“It’s working,” Bonnie clapped her hands in excitement, “Ask the question!” 
Earl chuckled, holding his wife against his front, “Not yet, sweets. We gotta start off slow. First question, bunny, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?” 
The words felt like hot lava trying to escape you, but you fought against them, pushing them down in your body, “No.” 
Earl’s eyes narrowed at you, “It’ll feel better if you let the serum do its thing. Keep fighting, and it’ll kill you.” 
“I’d rather die,” You grit your teeth, your nails digging into your palms. 
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I can make that happen,” Earl said, “Now answer the question, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?” 
You shook your head, scared that if you were to open your mouth, the truth would come spilling out. You never knew that the words “truth hurts” could be real until you found yourself in utter agony trying to hide the truth. Bonnie had her jaw clenched tightly as she watched you fight off her experiment. You wondered how many other people had been in your position. How many other people tried to fight and ended up dead? Or worse, ended up dead before they even got the chance to fight. 
“I love him,” You choked out, “I would never hurt him.” 
Jake shook his head, a scoff falling from his lips. Earl looked over his shoulder at him, a smirk forming on his lips, “You know something.” Jake instantly went quiet, not daring to look at you, but his body language was enough of a giveaway. You looked up at Jake, tears in your eyes as you begged him not to say anything. But Bonnie always prided herself on being a problem-solver, and a gasp fell from her lips. She waltzed her way over to Earl and whispered in his ear.
Earl stood up tall as he looked at you with a menacing smile on his face, “You cheated on him, didn’t you,”  You groaned in agony, tears streaming down your face as you tried to fight off the effects of the serum. Earl huffed as he pulled the gun out of the waistband of his pants, and pointed it at Jake’s head, “Answer the question you fucking bitch! Or, I’ll blow his brains all over the wall!” 
“Y/N. . .” Jake called out softly as you let out a scream. 
“I cheated on him!” You admitted. The feeling of sweet relief filled your body, as the words came tumbling out, “It was a mistake! A total and complete, stupid mistake!” You cried, tears and snot running down your face as you looked at Jake, “I-I. . . it was stupid! And I told him, I know we promised no one would know, but I couldn’t lie to him. I felt awful. It was killing me!”
“And he forgave you?” Bonnie asked, letting out a guffaw, “What an idiot!” 
“He loved me!” You snapped, pulling on your chains, “He forgave me, and it made us stronger.” 
“So you don’t love, puppy over there?” Earl asked, turning to glance at Jake like he was fresh meat. 
You clenched your jaw, feeling the painful truth rising up in your chest, but you fought it. Your nails dug into your palms as you shook your head, and you willed your voice to stay calm as you spoke. 
“I don’t love him.” 
Earl chuckled, walking up to you, and undoing your chains. You fell into a heap in his arms as he helped walk you back to your cell. You felt utter disgust as he ran his hand over your filthy hair, whispering how good you did in your ear, but your eyes never left Jake. His jaw was clenched tightly as Bonnie grabbed him and pulled him over to the same chair you were just chained up to. His green eyes bore into yours as Bonnie injected the same truth serum into his neck. 
The serum felt hot as it made its way through Jake’s body, making his nerves tingle. It was a dull ache that he felt and did his best to remain upright on his own two feet. He wondered to himself if you wouldn’t have fought so hard to hide the truth it wouldn’t have caused you so much pain. He could feel his heartbeat start to rise in his chest, and sweat pool on his brow. Taking a deep breath, Jake looked over to Earl and Bonnie; 
“Do your worst,” He sneered. 
Bonnie shrieked in excitement, “Finally!” 
Earl shushed her with a grin on his face, “Since the bitch won’t tell the truth, I guess the puppy will. . . You fucked her, didn’t you?” 
“Several times,” Jake’s face was stoic as he answered truthfully. The guilt in your body seemed to weigh you down like cement stones. You hated what you did to Bradley, and the lies that you kept from him, but you couldn’t help your attraction to Jake, “And she loved every moment of it. Even begged me for more.” 
“Whew! So she is a slut after all!” Earl looked over at you with that disgusting hunger in his eyes you’ve seen before, “I knew it. So tell me puppy. . . did you feel bad about it? What was it that she said? Oh, did you think it was a mistake?” 
Jake clenched his jaw and looked over at you, “Never.” 
“And why’s that?” Bonnie asked. 
“Cause he was screwing someone else,” Jake admitted. 
You gasped, holding your hand to your mouth, “That’s not true.” Bradley would never hurt you the way that you hurt him. He loved you too much to do that and it killed you to know how much you had hurt him. 
“It is! I saw him, Y/N!” Jake yelled, “I saw him with that girl at the bar. Do you remember the one he told you was some annoying junior pilot with a crush? He was screwing her,” Jake spat. You shook your head, eyes wide, refusing to believe the words that Jake had just spoken. 
“That’s a lie. He would nev-” 
“It’s the truth, Y/N. They were doing it everywhere. At work, at the Hard Deck. . . at the house. Remember when he went to Virginia for a week? He went home with her to meet her family.” 
“No!” You screamed, “He wouldn’t do that to me!” 
“So what did you do?” Bonnie asked. Jake’s eyes bore into yours as he took deep breaths. Bonnie looked between the two of you, before yelling, “Say it!” 
“I killed him,” Jake whispered. 
“What? What was that?” She instigated, leaning into Jake and holding her hand to her ear. 
“I killed him.” 
“Louder! I can’t hear-” 
“I killed him!” Jake yelled, his eyes never leaving yours, “I. . . I just wanted to scare him, to let him know that I knew what he was doing, and to get him to either come clean to you or stop. I-I don’t know what happened. But he. . . he started fighting back and I just. . . I lost control.” 
“It felt great didn’t it?” Bonnie asked, walking over to Jake, putting her hands on his shoulders, and running them down his chest, “You felt that release. That sweet, sweet release,” You wanted to kill her as she placed kisses up and down Jake’s neck. He couldn’t help but flutter his eyes closed at the gentle feel on his skin, “You let out all that pent-up need that someone was depriving you of. It felt like the best orgasm ever, didn’t it?” 
Jake looked away from you, guilt swimming in his eyes. You let out an anguishing cry as you collapsed to the ground, sobs racking your body as you dry-heaved. All Jake could do was sit in the chair and watch you. Earl walked over to you and picked up your body as if you weighed nothing. You thrashed in his arms as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at Jake. 
“You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?” Earl asked. Jake was silent as he looked down at the ground. “Answer me!” Jake looked at him, still keeping his mouth quiet. But you knew. By the look on his face, you knew what he was fighting. 
“Answer him, Jake,” You said quietly, “You’d kill Bradley again, wouldn’t you?” 
Jake couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he looked at you, “I would kill anyone who hurt you, sweetheart.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @seitmai @cassiemitchell @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @sarahsmi13s @els-marvelvsp @ohtobeleah
342 notes · View notes
rinixo · 1 year
Text
ashamed
Din Djarin/Reader | 5.9k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, PIV sex, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, oral sex, reader is blindfolded, vague breeding kink, themes of religious doubt re: the creed
'I have always felt ashamed at being witnessed in the act of wanting something I could not have.' - Jennifer S. Cheng
Part 2 to Someday
a/n: wanted to play around with the ‘struggling between your faith and your lust’ trope with Din and Reader. All the mythology/constellation stuff I made up.
read on ao3
“See that star there? It’s called Tasale, in basic. It makes up the heart of the constellation Thaiell.”
Grogu looked up to where you were pointing. The two of you were crouched on the ground under the dark sky, your backs to the small campfire set up just a short distance away. Din was sitting near the flames, poking at it now and again as he listened to you talk about constellations with his kid.
The three of you had settled in for the evening after finishing a short scouting mission. After supper, you had noticed Grogu’s gaze following sparks from the fire floating up into the night and had started pointing out different astronomical bodies to the curious child. You had even pulled out a small telescope and set it up low enough for Grogu to peer through the viewfinder.
“Thaiell is a figure in ancient Naboo mythology,” you explained as Grogu made a small squeak of acknowledgment. “There are tales of when she was a young mortal priestess. She fell in love with a knight after he rescued her from a terrible monster that was attacking her temple.” You moved the telescope slightly to focus elsewhere.
“You can’t see it from where we are here, but on Naboo, I’d be able to show you the full constellation,” you continued. “The most famous tale talks about how she gave up her life at the temple to travel with her beloved, only to die tragically,” Grogu whined at your retelling, and you patted his back gently. “I know, it’s sad. But she’s always been my favorite constellation.”
“Why is it your favorite?” Din asked from where he sat behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you shot him a small smile.
“It’s a little embarrassing,” you laughed. “You see, Tasale is two stars - a binary system People say that they represent the heart of Thaiell and the heart of her beloved, eternally rotating aside one another. I guess I just think it’s romantic.”
“Patu,” Grogu tapped your knee, drawing your attention back to him. You shrugged at Din, smiling shyly from your confession, and went back to showing the child the stars.
Less than an hour later, Grogu had his fill of stargazing and had fallen asleep in your lap, snuggled against your stomach. You had moved back towards the fire as he dozed off, and sat opposite Din, watching the way the flames reflected an orange glow in his armor.
It had been a few weeks since you had left the small forested planet where you had met Tineke and Galina, and not once had either you or Din mentioned the intimate evening you had shared. You had woken up alone, wrapped up in the sheets, wondering if it had just been a pleasurable dream. The soreness between your thighs and in your jaw had proven that it had not been. You had met up with Din and a still-sleeping Grogu and journeyed back to the Crest in the misty pre-dawn light, and after punching in some coordinates it had been business as usual.
The two of you had skirted around any topics relating to that night and any hint of attraction you harbored for each other. The long silences in the cockpit had an air of tension in them - feelings said and unsaid.
At one point, you had gathered enough bravery to approach him one late-night cycle. You met him in the galley as he was tidying something up, placing a hand softly on his vambrace. He had paused, and gently pulled away from you, and you had left it at that.
“He liked looking at the stars,” Din said quietly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You looked down at Grogu’s sleeping face, the shadow of a smile on your lips.
“He did,” you agreed. “He certainly is becoming more and more Mandalorian.” You had heard Din explaining the tenets of the creed to his foundling on several occasions, imparting the knowledge he’d need to know to make his way in the galaxy. To his credit, and belying his young age, Grogu paid apt attention to his father’s teachings about navigating and traveling. Your expertise may be more theoretical than Din’s, but if what you could share with him was useful, you were happy to do so.
“I’m glad he is taking an interest in learning,” Din commented. “It’s…not an easy life.”
“So you’ve said,” you replied softly. “But Grogu has chosen a good role model, I think.”
“Have you met other Mandalorians?” Din queried, and you laughed.
“No,” you conceded. “But if they’re even half as impressive as you, then…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling shy. Across from you, Din had stilled in his prodding of the coals. The flames had died down, the fire barely more than embers at this point.
You had just been about to compliment Din, but after his silence and non-acknowledgment of your feelings from weeks ago, you stopped yourself. If your relationship was never going to progress any further, then perhaps it was best to stifle those feelings to save yourself from further heartbreak.
“You should sleep,” Din said lowly. “We’ll be off as soon as dawn arrives.”
Swallowing roughly, you nodded. Rising, still clutching Grogu to your chest, you returned to your bunk on the Crest. Deciding to snuggle with the sleeping baby rather than place him back in his cradle, you drifted off to sleep, finding comfort in the soft breaths of the tiny being in your arms.
Din waited a while before returning to the ship himself, wanting to wait enough time for you to fall asleep. He watched the coals die through his visor, musing on your short conversation.
The enormity of his desire for you frightened him. He could still remember how it felt to hold your soft body against his armored one like it was just moments ago. He desperately wished that he could feel you with more than just his bare hands, struggling between his dedication to his creed and his hunger for you. He felt a tinge of shame of how he had palmed himself to several releases over the past couple of weeks, remembering the heat of your mouth on him and the clutch of you on his fingers.
He thought back to his earlier promise - someday - and felt a twinge of regret. How could he promise something he wasn’t sure he could give? He had never struggled to keep to his code until he met you. Something about you stirred feelings in him he didn’t think he could have. If it was just lust, that one time would have satisfied it. No matter how much he tried, however, he could not get you out of his head.
Dropping sand over the coals, he sighed and returned up to the ship. He should have just gone to his bed, but he was pulled yet again to where you were. Your soft breathing indicated that you were out. He watched your sleeping form, curled protectively around his child, and something in him shifted.
Maybe there was a way to satisfy his need for you while adhering to the creed. Knowing he was not going to be able to sleep before parsing it out, he stomped up to the cockpit to meditate on the situation.
You woke up hours later, wincing at a soreness in your arm. It was bent funny, from where you had held Grogu next to you during your rest. The child was gone, and you blinked slowly and yawned before rising yourself.
The hull of the ship was quiet and empty, and you saw that the hatch was down. You could see sunlight streaming in, and as you changed into a clean set of clothes you wondered where Din had landed your little trio. You hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him, and he hadn’t asked your opinion on the next destination.
As if your thoughts had summoned him, the man stepped up into the ship - his kid noticeably absent. Pulling a light parka over your head, you shook out your hair and looked around for your shoes.
“Where is Grogu?” You inquired as Din began grabbing various things out of the storage compartments in his ship. Rations, water packs, necessities like that. Was he going on a hunt?
“With a friend,” Din answered. “He’ll be safe there.”
You frowned, confused. “Ok,” you said slowly. “But what about me?”
Din turned to you, handing you your empty pack. “You’ll be with me,” he said simply. “Pack up. Just enough for a day or two.”
Taking the pack, you looked at it dumbly, still confused. You rarely joined Din on his bounties - you were not trained in combat and would only be a liability. You usually stayed behind, running calculations or translating texts, Grogu babbling at your side until Din returned. You often joked you were an extremely overqualified babysitter, which you were sure Din rolled his eyes at.
“It’s ok,” Din said softly, noticing your expression. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself of his own statement, and your stomach knotted. The irrational part of you wondered if he was going to take you out into the desert and leave you for dead. You quickly squashed those thoughts, chastising yourself. Din hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him yet - and you hadn’t given him a reason to distrust you in turn. You had come to understand that he often left out details not because he wasn’t willing to share, but because he was used to doing everything on his own. You hoped this was just another one of those situations, where you’d find out his plans once he decided you needed to know.
Nodding, you turned and began to pack some basics, just missing a relieved sigh from the armored man as he continued his own packing.
A while later, you cursed the strain in your calves as you followed Din up a narrow, rocky trail. He had taken you on quite the hike - up and over low volcanic hills, covered in lava rock and plush layers of moss and other plant life. You realized that you were on Nevarro after seeing the spaceport in the distance. You knew Din had history here, and people he considered allies, but it still didn’t explain what in the hell was going on or why you were there.
Rounding the top of the hill, you paused to catch your breath. A warm breeze twisted lazily around you, and you scanned the horizon waiting for your energy to return.
“We’re almost there,” Din called, already several paces ahead of you. He pointed to the next rocky cliff, a couple hundred yards away. “It’s just behind there.”
“What is?” You cried out for the nth time. “Pirate hideout? Hidden cache?”
“You’ll see,” was his enigmatic reply, and you huffed before continuing behind him loyally.
The slight smell of sulfur hit your sense with the next breeze, and you scrunched your face up at the sensation. Ahead of you, Din disappeared around a rocky outcrop, and you hoisted your pack up over your shoulder and hurried to join him.
Rounding a sharp, porous cliff, you ran right into his back. He steadied you with a firm arm, shifting so that you could see around him and down into a small valley.
Steam rose in plumes, shifting in the late afternoon light. Geothermal springs bubbled and hissed below you, surrounding a small building set into the volcanic cliffs. Greenery decorated the ferrocrete structure, ivy and other creeping vines draping beautifully over its brutalist exterior. Your mouth opened into a small ‘o’, and you looked up at Din with wide eyes.
“It’s for you,” he said. “A place to relax, for a little while.”
“I don’t know what to say,” you sputtered. This was the last thing you were expecting to see, or receive. Your own private hot spring bungalow? You were expecting a cave or some other kind of damp hole you’d be crawling through in search of some criminal fugitive or piece of ancient pottery. “How did you come across a place like this?”
“Karga - the magistrate,” he clarified. “He owed me a favor.”
You frowned. “Din, I can’t take your favor. That’s not fair.”
He shrugged, continuing down the hill. “You need a break. Just enjoy it.”
The sun set a few hours later, and you lounged on the small porch, sipping on a cool drink. You had spent an almost unhealthy amount of time bathing in the springs, the warm water soothing aches you didn’t even realize you had. Din had busied himself elsewhere during that time - you had insisted that he also take the time to relax a little bit. The building wasn’t terribly large, but it was enough so that the two of you had privacy from one another.
You had half-expected him to dip out once you reached the building, and it had seemed like it was on his mind too. He had hovered just inside the doorway as you explored, and it wasn’t until you had gestured for him to come inside that he crossed the threshold. Almost like he was waiting for your permission.
The setting sun cast an orange light over the hills, making the bubbling springs look like pools of lava. You smiled, rubbing your calves lazily. There had been some lovely oils and creams set out, and you had picked the one you liked the smell of most to rub into your skin. The scent of medicinal spices and flowers filled your senses, all of it combining into quite a calming atmosphere. It almost reminded you of the bathhouses back on Naboo - except much more private.
“How was it?” Din’s voice greeted you, and you looked over your shoulder to see him carrying a stack of wood towards a small fire pit set into the ferrocrete floor.
“It was wonderful,” you gushed. “You should give them a try before we leave. I’ll go inside so you can get the full experience.”
“I might,” Din mused, arranging the wood and setting it alight. He settled on a small seat, hands crossed in front of him. You scooted over to join him closer to the flames.
“I really appreciate this,” you professed. “Though…I’m still a little confused. I hope you know I don’t expect things like this.” While you knew your life of relative peace and luxury was vastly different from his own, you had felt like you had settled quite comfortably into a life of being on the move and living in cramped spaces. “You don’t need to bribe me, you know,” you joked.
His helmet tilted to the side. “I know,” Din responded lowly. “It’s - more of a token of my appreciation for everything you do for Grogu and I. And…an apology.”
“For what?” You inquired.
“For everything,” he answered quietly. “For…letting my feelings get in the way. And for unpaid promises.”
“Oh,” you rasped, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top. Guilt flooded in, and you let out a sigh.
“It’s ok Din,” you mumbled. “I should have known better. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You don’t have to - it’s not a promise I expected you to even say, much less keep. If you want to forget about it, then I’m all right with that.” You shot him a half-smile, trying to force yourself to be ok with this development. Having it out in the open hurt, but at least you knew.
Time passed slowly, though, in reality, it must have been just a few heartbeats. The two of you gazed into the low flames. The smell of the burning wood was bright, like something you’d smell in incense. Combined with the steam and the oils, you felt a little lightheaded. You thought about excusing yourself and calling it a night early, maybe finding something alcoholic to sip before trying to sleep your feelings off, when Din let out a sigh.
“I’ve seen members of my covert leave for various reasons,” Din spoke softly. You raised your eyes and watched him through the flames as he poked at the coals, sending sparks up into the sky. “Wealth, family, fear, love. I had thought that there couldn’t possibly be anything in the galaxy that would cause me to forsake the creed.”
“I’ve felt temptation. It’s not an easy life, but it was the only one that I had ever truly known,” he continued. It’s what drives me…gives me purpose.” You nodded slowly, silence inviting him to continue.
“I knew this older Mandalorian, decades ago. We had traveled together on a few different bounties before I had started taking jobs exclusively on my own.” There was a hint of a smile in his soft voice. “I guess he was a kind of…mentor. Took me under his wing when I was first starting out. The last time I saw him was the day he laid down his helmet and left the creed. The other members of the covert watched him go in silence, but I followed him out into the dawn. I confronted him, and asked him why he would leave.” Another poke at the coals, and more sparks.
“I remember him just turning, a small, sad smile on his face,” Din murmured. “And he said ‘I just didn’t want to live another day without feeling the sun on my face, kid.’”
“Back then, I hadn’t understood. I had thought the man a fool for abandoning the creed for such an insignificant reason.” His helmet turned up, the visor facing you straight on. “Then, years later, I accepted a bounty for the kid and it was then that everything I thought he knew about the galaxy and my place in it had shifted.” You could barely hear a broken sigh as Din dropped the stick he had been using to stoke the fire, his hands resting limply on his thighs.
“And after meeting you,” he rasped, and your heart started beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. “I started to understand that perhaps that man’s words were more than just about feeling the sun on your face.”
Swallowing roughly, you trained your eyes on the man in front of him. It was like he had deflated - everything he was feeling, out in the open - guilt bare in front of you. You stood and went over to him, sitting just to his side, thighs barely touching. Placing a wary hand on his shoulder, you tried to think of what to say in response.
“I’m can’t take back how I feel,” you decided, voice soft and gentle. “Or erase what has transpired between us. But if it makes it easier for you…” trailing off, you brought your hand down to his bicep, where there was no armor, and squeezed gently. “I’m ok with going back to how things were.”
Din’s helmet turned towards you slightly, and he placed a hand lightly on your knee, squeezing in return.
“I brought you here for another reason,” he confessed and stood. Holding out his hand, he took yours and helped you to your feet, leading you inside the building.
It was lit dimly by warm, inset lights, and you followed Din into the main bedroom suite. You sat at the edge of the wide bed and watched as he went over to where his things were sitting on a table.
“Maybe it would be best if we did go back to how things were,” Din faltered, voice low as if he was talking more to himself than to you. He pulled a piece of dark fabric from his pack and handed it to you. It was soft, like silk, but made of a thick weave. “But…”
You took it from him as realization bloomed in you like a rising flame. “You want to feel the sun on your face,” you finished for him, thumb brushing over the blindfold.
“I can’t show you my face,” Din husked. “It’s not…but if you cover your eyes…” he trailed off with a shaky breath. “If you are willing.”
You hummed, turning the blindfold over in your hands. “Is this what you want?” Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you handed the blindfold back to him, keeping your hand on his, waiting for his consent.
“Yes,” he rasped quickly, the word leaving his lips before you had even finished your sentence. With a nod of acknowledgment, you turned and showed him your neck. Moving your hair out of the way, you invited him to tie the blindfold over your eyes.
Darkness covered your sight as he tightened the fabric around your head. His hands settled heavily on your shoulders and you turned back to face him.
“I know I can’t see,” you ventured, “But can I touch you?” You placed a hand on his chest and heard a low, shaken noise from the man underneath the armor.
“Touching…is ok,” Din answered, and the tone of it sounded more like a plea than anything else. You stood in front of him, hands slowly going up to his shoulders, and you felt around for the clasps and belts that held his armor in place. You wanted to undress him as he had undressed you.
As each piece of armor came off, you handed it to him to place safely somewhere off to the side. Not being able to see what you were doing made the work a little harder, but it also increased your desire with every passing moment. You were getting closer and closer to his skin with every removal, and you tried to quell the anxious shake in your hands.
You got to his waist and then kneeled slightly to unclasp the armor at his thighs. Your hand brushed over the front of his trousers, and you felt him there, hard and wanting. A wrecked groan echoed from above you, affirming his desperation. Standing again, your hands went to his chest to undo his shirt when his hands came up to stop you.
“Wait.” You held still, listening for his instructions. You felt him move away from you slightly and heard rustling and the sound of him taking his boots off before you felt his presence back in front of you.
“Ok,” he affirmed, and your heart kept at the sound of his voice, clear and strong without the helmet in the way. He had removed it.
Your hands came back up to his collarbone, and you undid the front of his linen shirt. His skin was warm underneath, and you could feel his heart thundering. It matched your own, and it spurred you on further. You tugged up, and he helped you pull it up over his head before discarding it.
Before you could continue, his own hands went to your clothing. You paused and let him undress you in turn - your top thrown to the side, your linen shorts pulled down your legs. You stood in front of him, just in your thin fiber weave underwear, when he cupped your chin and brought his mouth to meet yours.
You felt his lips, soft against you, almost chaste in their exploring. You parted your own in a small gasp, hand coming up to rest on his chest. You could feel his heart thrum underneath your hand.
The scruff of his facial hair tingled and scraped your chin as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue darted out towards his lips, and he chased it back into your mouth with his own. One of his hands came to the back of your head as he laid you back on the soft sheets, guiding you down. His mouth moved to your jaw and he placed several firm, wet kisses all along it as you sighed and began to surrender to his touch.
Din felt like he was on fire. His body pushed him as his mind screamed at him, confusing messages telling him to stop, no, keep going, creed versus desire no it’s ok she can’t see, it doesn’t count, please just let me have this -
Every piece of his armor coming off at your hands sent shocks of desire through him, followed swiftly by guilt at finding pleasure in something so forbidden. Then he started to take off your clothes, swallowing roughly at the sight of your smooth curves revealed to his uncovered eyes.
He channeled his guilt and deference to the creed into the worship of your body. From your mouth, down to your jaw, and then to the center of your chest. He held himself over you, careful not to crush you under his weight. You arched up, and he ran his tongue to the peak of one of your breasts. Closing his eyes, he groaned as he sucked there roughly, delighting in how you gasped at the sensation.
“Feels good,” you muttered above him, and he responded by turning his mouth to your other breast. One of your hands came up to comb through his hair, and he teased you with a soft nip to the soft flesh around your pert nipple.
“You’re so soft,” Din whispered, trailing his mouth down the plane of your stomach. A smile flickered across your face before turning into a hiss as he kneeled at the edge of the bed and spread open your thighs. “Never knew anything could be so kriffing soft.”
He nosed at your covered mound, hands gripping your thighs. The thin fabric of your underwear was losing its modesty just from your slick - and he hadn’t even tasted you yet.
“So wet,” Din growled. “Do you always get so wet? Do you walk around my ship with a dripping cunt?” He wrapped his lips around the soft, swollen mound of you, holding tight to your legs to prevent you from moving away from his probing tongue.
“Unngh,” was all the answer you could muster as his lips firmed around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly, bitter-bright from the sensation of the man prostrating himself between your legs. His mouth moved against you, and he pushed your soaked underwear to the side to lathe his tongue up your slit. You reached down to grasp his hair again as he edged you closer to release.
Helmetless, Din reveled in the taste of you, the smell of you. Deference to his creed defied by the roaring desire you had planted inside of him urged him on. He flicked his tongue quickly over your swollen clit, eyes closing as you tensed against him.
“Oooh,” you simpered, hands tightening in his hair. “I’m gonna co-“ you failed to get the words out as Din pushed his face further into your soft cunt, and you came with a choked cry.
Stars, he thought. The feeling of you coming on his hand had been one thing, but this? The rapture of your orgasm nearly had him coming himself. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he was now ruined - how could he ever be satisfied with just touches after feeling you come undone by his mouth?
Body shaking and jolting with every continued suck, you pushed at Din’s head. “S’too much,” you wailed, and you swore you could feel him smirk against you.
With one last kiss to your swollen flesh, Din moved back up your body. He grunted in surprise as you pushed on his shoulders, trying to roll him over. “What’re you doing?” He huffed.
“You said touching is ok,” you pouted, and he obliged you and rolled to his side. You felt around for his chest and swung a still-shaking leg over his broad lower abdomen. Leaning forward, you bumped his nose clumsily as he chuckled lowly and guided your desperate mouth to his own. You sighed into it, tongue swiping at his lips to taste yourself on him. Din’s hands settled on the backs of your thighs, rubbing the soft skin there as you explored his mouth.
Mirroring his earlier journey, you moved from his lips to his jaw, nipping at the scruff. His short nails scratched lightly at the skin on your legs as you ventured lower, using only your sense of touch to guide yourself down him.
Din groaned as your tongue came out to trace his collarbone before you kissed down his chest. His cock jumped at the feeling of you grinding down into his lap - were you even aware of it, or were you so drunk on the need for him that you didn’t notice?
As you moved your body down to settle between his legs, reaching for the belt of his trousers, you frowned in frustration as his hand came to stop you. “Sorry, sweetness,” Din mumbled. “But I’m not gonna last if you do that, and I want to come inside your cunt.”
“Oh,” you responded lamely as he grabbed your arms and dragged you back up his body. He slotted his mouth over yours again as he flipped your roles, once again hovering over your smaller frame.
“You want that?” Din husked into your mouth and you nod feverishly. “I know - you’re drenched with the thought of me deep inside you, aren’t you?” You moan your assent, shivering at the filthy way he’s talking to you.
“Gonna ruin you,” he continues lowly, shedding his pants and gripping the base of himself. Grabbing one of your legs, he pulls you down as you yelp. He rubs his cockhead over your clit and up and down your dripping folds, spreading your thighs to settle heavily between them.
His girth dwarfs you - you had seen how big he was before when you had him in your mouth, but feeling him like this - hard against where you wanted him most - makes your head spin. With a grunt, he pushes against you, and you feel the pressure of him.
He knows he should go slow. He wonders if he’ll fit as he watches the way you split and stretch around him. He feels too big, but it’s too good to slow down - and the way you keen under him urges him on. It’s selfish, he thinks wildly. Not taking the time to prepare you for this. But he can’t help it.
“Fuck,” he rambles, speaking neither to you nor himself, but to something unseen. “This is for me. Just for me.” Rolling his hips, he thrusts up into you, watching as your covered face lulls to the side, your breath leaving you in little gasps with every punch at your guts.
’S’full,” you mumble, and he answers you with another purposeful thrust. ’B-big. You’re so big, Din. Deep. You feel so good.” He murmurs praise about how good you’ve been for him, how pretty you look under him, blissed out from his cock. You gurgle out a moan at how full you feel - you swear you can feel him all the way up in your sternum.
He wants to stain your insides. His hips piston into you recklessly, driving home so that you’ll feel him for days afterward. He wants you to walk back to his ship sore and dripping with his spend, and then he’d push you down into your cot and fill you up again for good measure.
Your cunt flutters around him, and it drives him further into madness. All thoughts of the creed are gone. He’s lost in the tight clutch of you - the universe begins and ends from where he’s anchored inside of your body.
“Gonna fill you up,” he slurs against your mouth, chest coming down to press against yours. He hisses at your nails scratching up his back, and he presses his teeth against your bared neck. He sucks a dark mark there, nipping and biting up to just under your ear. “Want it, don’t you? Gotta come on my cock first, baby.”
Your brows furrow as if in concentration - you focus intently on the feeling of him. The way his bulk spreads your thighs, the ache of a burn already growing there. The way his iron-hard cock spears you open. The way his mouth lathes over your skin. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time, and it pulls you apart.
Din groans at the feeling of you tensing below him, around him. He’s so close, and it makes his whole body burn. He has just enough sanity left to keep his deepest desires on the tip of his tongue - the ones that make him come the hardest when he’s alone, cock in hand. The ones where he comes so deep inside of you that it takes and ties you to him forever.
He almost says it. “Might fucking take, sweet girl. Want me to come in you? Stuff you full of my come? Fill you so deep, get you nice and round with it-“
He doesn’t though - not yet, that’s too much - and instead muffles a groan into your neck as he starts to come. Din slams his hips into you once, twice, and then holds himself up against the seal of your womb, rutting not out but further up. Stars, he’s coming so much, and harder than he had ever come before. It makes him see static behind his eyes.
You shiver and moan beneath him, at the feeling of him pulsing his release inside of you. Din slots his mouth over yours before lowering himself further, hiking your legs up to lock around his waist.
You shift under him, still anchored to where he fills you. You can fill yourself leaking around the tight plug of him, and it makes your toes curl. Din does not make an effort to move, merely buries his nose into the side of your neck and curls around you further. Maybe it’s the desire to keep you there, attached to him. The feeling of holding someone in his arms - so unfamiliar yet so necessary.
He might be a Mandalorian, but he’s also a man, after all.
Din has you twice more before the sun rises. On your knees, face buried in the pillow as he plows into you from behind. He fucks you slow and deep like this, rambling more filth into your ear until you’re shaking around him again.
You’re nearly delirious from the pleasure and exertion as he brings you to your crest a final time. He lowers you onto him, your chests pressed together. The blindfold is damp from a mixture of your sweat and your tears. His hands brand themselves on the curves of your ass as he fills you one last time, praising you for how well you took him.
You feel him shudder beneath you as you mumble how you want to be good for him before you sigh and fall out of lucidity.
He holds you like that as the sun crests through the thin curtains. You’re sprawled over him, check pressed against his chest. Eyes still covered - the blindfold hadn’t budged, despite the way you tumbled together through the night. A small token of grace.
Din knows he’ll have to get up soon, and put his helmet back on before you wake up. His body is tired, though, and he convinces himself to lie there - just a little longer - and tries to imprint how it feels to have your body pressed against his.
After the bliss has faded and the shame sets in, it might be all he’s left with.
645 notes · View notes
demonicbaby666 · 8 months
Text
A Wicked Game
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x gn!Reader
Genre: fluff and smut
Words: 1.3k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing and fingering (JJ!receiving), implied squirting
Summary: JJ steps in to help you with a game you're losing.
Shots are being fired, your health is plumping, and no one is coming to help. You're alone as you try to fight off three enemies. The silhouettes of your team are in the distance, a promise of aid carried on their shoulder. Alas, it's too late. You watch, leaning forward, as your body falls to the ground on the flatscreen TV, and your rescuers scramble over your dead body to avenge their fallen comrade.
"FUCK!" You groan.
Hurried footsteps pad through the landing, and JJ runs in, "What's happened?" She asks, scanning the room, eyes settling on the screen.
"They ganged up on me," briefly turning to look at her - aware that you'll respawn any moment - your girlfriend is trying not to laugh, lips tightly pressed together. You huff, "JJ! It's not funny!"
"You poor thing," she mockingly coos.
Eyes back on the game, you dart out the spawn point and hurry to rein destruction upon those who stand in the way of your victory.
"Get the sniper!" You practically scream and hear JJ's barked-out laughter through your headset.
She watches from the doorway - dressed in your flannel and that alone - as you dodge shot after shot and aim for the godforsaken player who's made a comfortable nest atop a high building. Their health is steadily going down, but with your gun against hers, she has the advantage. One remaining health bracket is left, and bang, with one headshot, you're down and that evil yet beautiful mademoiselle lives.
"Gimme," JJ says, walking over to the sofa and holding out her hand.
She's played a few times before and done very well for herself, so it can't hurt to put your pride aside and hope JJ will take the team home with her skills.
"Have at it." You hand her the controller and fall back on the sofa.
There's a vast amount of space between your legs - your go-to gaming position could be what some would call 'manspreading' - and JJ doesn't even ask as she plonks down and settles back against your chest. Taking the headset into your hands, you pull it over your head and secure it to JJ's.
"Who's the hot one again?" She asks, holding the button down to change character.
"Ash," you point to the blonde on the screen, "Down. Now go right. No, you just went past her, babe."
"Got it!" JJ exclaims before throwing dynamite into her line of sight and unceremoniously walking straight into the explosion, "Oh. Oops."
A chuckle earns you a swift nudge to your stomach, "Hey!"
"I was testing out the controls," she grumbles.
You concede and comfortably wrap your hands around JJ's waist, "Show them how it's done."
She shuffles around, finding the best position and locates the team. Not even a minute in, and JJ has taken down the sniper twice, the tank once and both of the supports. Though you can't see her face, you can tell, from her heavy breathing to her quiet curses, how concentrated she is, and it's downright adorable.
Her weight is now fully backed against you. She lines up her next shot, effortlessly makes it and then moves on to the next and then the next.
It's becoming evident that JJ has a speciality she's been keeping a secret. So you decide it's only fair to make things harder for her, even out the playing field of sorts. It's your duty to keep the balance. At least, that's what you choose to tell yourself to justify your next course of action.
Slowly, your hand trickles down from the older woman's waist to the exposed skin of her inner thigh. There's no sign that she's put off, only a little shuffle to reposition herself. Pleasantly surprised, you discover the blonde is wearing a thong. An evil grin besmirches the adoring smile you previously wore. JJ's far too luxurious panties to wear on a lazy Sunday have made it deliciously easy to carry out your devious plan.
"What are you-" JJ cuts herself off with an unexpected moan as your hand cups her covered sex, "Oh god."
You pull at the left earcup, resting it on the back of JJ's ear. Nibbling the soft flesh between your teeth, you mutter, "Eyes on the prize."
"How am I meant to focus with you doing that?" She says, trying awfully hard to sound annoyed. Her actions betray her as she canters her hips forward. Somehow, she still manages to shoot the opposition's Mercy - straight to the head.
You push the scrap of material aside and draw languish circles over her clit, adoring how wet she's already become, "You'll manage fine. Focus on the game."
Despite the distraction, JJ continues to run around. She pops off a few shots, and her kill count is steadily rising, though she's missing more and more shots as time goes on.
"I don't think you're focusing hard enough," you taunt and swiftly enter her with two fingers, earning yourself a whimper.
JJ shudders against your chest and throws her head back. You take this opportunity to run your tongue from the base of her neck to her jawline, stopping to suck and nibble at her creamy skin.
"Fuck, baby. I c-can't." She takes a critical hit, and a replay of Ash standing stark still, getting sniped straight to the head, appears on the TV.
"Yes, you can, you're almost there."
To her credit, the profiler perseveres. The cart's almost at the finish line, and, at this point, JJ is free shooting anything and anyone in sight, be it the enemy, a wall or even a fellow teammate. She's wholly given her body over to you, grinding in time with your thrusts, and you can tell by the way her walls are clenching and pulsing around your fingers she's close.
JJ lets out an alarmingly loud gasp as you slip a third finger inside her, thumbing her clit up and down in tandem. Ash is firing shots left, right and centre with little to no control, but it doesn't matter because time slows down, and the cart parks its finish. The blessed victory shines blue on the screen.
"Come all over my fingers, JJ."
Her head collides with your shoulder at the same time as her hand does the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss. It lasts all but a few seconds before the blonde falls apart in your arms, panting and whimpering in your mouth. The sound of her arousal pooling over your unrelenting fingers fills the air until a keening loud cry overpowers it.
"Again."
Stopping your thrusts, you instead run your fingers repeatedly over JJ's g-spot. She lets out a sob before the high-pitched chanting of your name starts tumbling out her mouth continually. Thank fuck you don't have open mic turned on.
With your free hand, you make quick work of tweaking a painfully hard nipple before cupping the whole breast in your palm and tenderly squeezing it.
"Yes! YES!" JJ screams, "I'm, I'm-" and, just like that, she's gushing all over your hand.
"You're a monster," she sighs, pecking at your lips once you stop moving inside her. You try to pull your fingers out, but JJ grabs your wrists and holds you still, "Stay inside me for a little."
So you do.
Laying further back into the sofa, you work the skin of her neck with idle kisses, occasionally reuniting with her lips and letting time slip away in the softness of her love and affection.
What starts as lazy swipes of tongues and innocent bites soon morphs into rushed, hungry and desperate desire. Fingers start moving again, and soon enough, JJ has rid herself of the headset, alongside any predilection for cleansing the overwatch world of snipers. Now, she wholeheartedly chooses to keep her sights on you and your movements.
Tags: @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @imlike-so-gaydude @taylorswiftsboyfriend @jareguiromanoff | click here to be added to my taglist
212 notes · View notes
jenniferjareauwife · 1 month
Note
r has a bad habit of biting their fingernails and picking at the skin around them, and jj always prevents it by holding r’s hand and letting them fiddle w jj’s fingers instead. she has to do it at least three times a day🥲
You've Gotta Stop
Tumblr media
pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader
category: fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: none
word count: 819
summary: you pick your nails and the skin around them when you're anxious so your girlfriend helps you and calms you down
My leg bounced as I picked at my nails. This case had been going on for far too long and the body count was stacking way too high. Were we ever going to solve it or were people just going to keep dying? Were we really making a difference or were we just making everything worse? "Y/n?" I heard JJ's soft voice in my ear.
"Hm?" I turned to look at her with an anxious look on my face, still picking at my nails.
"Take a breath honey, it's ok." She put her hands over mine to stop me from picking. I took a deep breath and leaned closer to her, wanting everyone's eyes off of me. "Let's go somewhere private, yeah?" I nodded and stood up, letting her lead me to an unoccupied conference room. Since her hands weren't in mine I started picking again, eventually drawing blood.
"I need a band aid." I mumbled. JJ pulled a few out of her pocket, knowing that I usually needed them while we were on cases.
"You've gotta stop that honey. You're hurting yourself." She tucked my hair behind my ear while I put on my bandages.
"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry." I started pacing around the room, trying to pick my skin around the bandages. "Why can't we figure this out why can't we-"
"Sweetheart. It's gonna be ok." She put her hand on the small of my back and caressed it with her thumb.
"How do you know that?"
"Because it's always ok. When have we not solved a case?" I shrugged. "See? It's gonna be ok. You've gotta stop picking at your nails though, it's really not good for you."
"I'm sorry." I mumbled.
"I know."
"I can't help it, I just do it."
"I know honey, I know." She pulled me into a much needed hug and I tried my best to just relax into her. "Just a few more hours and then we can head back to our hotel room, ok? Just a few hours." I nodded and tightened my grip on her.
"Can we stay here? I don't want to be around everyone else." I mumbled against her chest.
"I'm sorry babe but we have to go back with the others. We have to do our job." I groaned and buried my face into her further.
"I know." She kissed the top of my head. "Just hold on for a few more hours."
Three hours later we were back at the hotel and I was back to picking at my skin. JJ was on her laptop so she didn't notice until a few minutes later. "Come here." I moved closer to her with an anxious look on my face, one I always seemed to have the past few days. She held my hands in hers and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles. "Just play with my fingers, ok?" I nodded and leaned into her, immediately starting to fidget with her fingers. We stayed like that for 20 minutes and I was finally starting to calm down. JJ had been giving me kisses all over my face while I held and played with her hands.
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
"For what?"
"For picking my fingers. I know it's super annoying." I sighed and looked down at her hands.
"Hey. Look at me." She grabbed my face gently to turn me to look at her. "It's not annoying, ok? Everyone deals with anxiety differently and that's just what you do. Is it healthy? No. But we can work together to find something else that helps you that isn't hurting you in the process, ok?" I nodded and leaned towards her so she could plant a kiss on my forehead. "Do you know what it is about this case that makes you so anxious? I've had to stop you at least five times today honey."
"Just...don't know if we're ever gonna solve it. What if we're hurting more than we're helping?" I shrugged and started playing with her fingers again, feeling my anxiety creep back up on me now that I was thinking about it again.
"How would we be hurting more than helping?"
"We haven't caught him and now he's probably figuring out how to stay under the radar since we're onto him. If we don't catch him soon...the case might go unsolved and he can just keep killing for the rest of his life." She shook her head.
"That's now how that works."
"You don't know that." She raised her brows after my retort and I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok. Let's get some rest. You definitely need it." I nodded and watched as she laid down, resting my head on her chest and still holding her hand in mine so I could play with it if I needed to. She kissed the top of my head and gave my hand a soft squeeze. "I love you."
"I love you too."
69 notes · View notes
naamahdarling · 5 months
Note
Do you have a favorite musical?
If so, what are your favorite lyrics from it, and why?
Tumblr media
ALW's CATS.
Is it a surreal mess? Yes! But I love it before everything else.
The lyrics are silly but very clever. Most are at least partly by TS Eliot, drawn from a wonderfully nonsensical book of poems.
I think my favorite song is the Invitation to the Jellicle Ball, neck and neck with Mr Mistoffelees.
My favorite cat is Mistoffelees by a lot, followed by the Rum Tum Tugger. They are in love.
But the part that makes me feel the most in my heart is Grizabella. The only cat I relate to is Grizabella.
Memory is the big number that everyone knows and I do absolutely love it, it's one of my favorite songs and probably the best in the musical as it was before CATS 2019 introduced a new song, but I feel that out of context it simply doesn't have punch. It gets trotted out to showcase a singer's skill, as a bit of a tearjerker if you're a sentimental person. It is so much more than that.
I didn't understand Grizabella properly until I was well and truly an adult and had taken in multiple cats off the street, and lived near a colony, and watched my own cats become frail, which are all painful things in many ways; AND until I had begun to really feel the weight of my marginalization as a disabled person and an ill person, which means confronting almost daily the fact that I am unlikely to come to the sort of end I would like.
Hold on because I'm going to be unhinged about this cat for a minute.
Grizabella is an aged stray, once welcomed, now abandoned and unloved, considered ugly even by others like her (who are shown to supposedly accept differences and value, or at least respect, most everyone...but not her).
She lives in a haunted, lonely state unacknowledged by anyone except to be driven away. She can no longer care for herself, she is filthy and matted and scarred and probably in a lot of pain, she is starving, and she has nothing but her memories of better times, and every single dawn is both a gift and a miserable curse. She gets to remember. She has to remember.
If you watch, Grizabella is onstage a LOT, she's just off in the background, usually poorly lit, where she tries to mirror the dances happening on the main part of the stage, dances she knows because that was once her, there in the spotlight, shining. But now she's in too much pain to dance and her body isn't working right anymore. I have no doubt Grizabella is dying. The question is whether she will get to do that well, comforted and with dignity, or do it badly and alone.
I cannot HANDLE Grizabella.
If you have even the tiniest inkling of love for cats, if you believe every cat's life is worth something, her story should destroy you.
The legendary Jennifer Hudson's performance in the movie brought a really angry and confrontational turn to her, and it was flat out amazing. A rebuke of a performance. It really hurts to watch but it's what the role has always needed. She isn't just weak and sad, she clings to the tatters of her dignity and is angry that the others don't see her as a whole person. Just a miserable shadow to be avoided. A cautionary tale. We are never told what terrible thing she did to deserve her fall, and given that most of the Jellicles are young, I don't know that any of them really remember.
I will physically fight anyone who says she should not have been selected to ascend to a new life. She was the only choice. Even Gus. Even him. He can have his turn next year. Grizabella does not have another year in her.
And I'm going to make some folks mad but I love the 2019 movie (it's bad) and the new song, Beautiful Ghosts, is amazing, and I DO prefer Taylor Swift's version as the movie version is a little more timid (fitting the role and musical way better) but TS fucking BELTS IT and I get chills every time.
The lyrics are incredible and the song is gorgeous, gorgeous. And strung together with Grizabella's song, it finishes the musical in a way that it was a bit unfinished before. It uses an actual full song to connect Grizabella to the Ball and the Choice more directly than any choreography ever did or could:
Victoria, the White Cat and viewpoint character, still almost a kitten, has been dumped in the street and into a terrifying and beautiful new life.
After being swept up into its wonder, she sees Grizabella, utterly rejected, hissed at, made fun of, despised, and aches with the injustice of it -- Victoria was snatched right up by the other cats the instant her paws hit the ground, but nobody will take in Grizabella. Not even her own kind.
Victoria sees how strangely similar they are and feels a kinship that has no pity in it at all, but wonder and respect.
So Victoria sings this new song expressing the first admiration Grizabella has heard in god alone knows how long, reminding her she has had an amazing life worth envy and renown, and she pulls this horrible decrepit old mess of a cat into the Jellicle Ball, where she is FINALLY relieved of her pain.
Like? I'm crying right now?
It isn't a serious musical, but Grizabella's story runs through it like a cold current, something real and terrible, surrounded by absolute ridiculousness. Her numbers are deadly serious, never played for laughs. And ultimately it is her story that turns out to be the most important one, the truest one, and it is dark, and it is hopeful but only in only the most painful and grief-stricken way. She isn't brought back into a comfortable life with other cats to be happy and surrounded by love. She essentially...dies and goes to cat heaven. She embodies hope itself to the others, and her ascension represents a deeply humbling lesson in humility and grace. Her suffering and her ascent represent the possible future of every one of them, and now they have to confront that, and their treatment of her. She was rewarded, and for all their beauty and charm they were not.
Anyway I'm not normal about it.
The lyrics from Beautiful Ghosts that I love are:
Perilous night, their voices calling. A flicker of light, before the dawning. Out here the wild ones are taming the fear within me. Scared to call them my friends and be broken again. Is this hope just a mystical dream?
and
And so maybe my home Isn't what I had known, what I thought it would be. But I feel so alive With these phantoms of night, and I know that this life isn't safe but it's wild and it's free!
Like, come on. It's a lovely song and it took my breath away in the theater.
Ugh this musical touched me as a feral cat girl of 10 and it touches me again as a sad catguy in their 40s. Truly a very stupid work of weirdly meaningful art and one for the ages.
There are much better musicals, but none of them are part of me.
89 notes · View notes
97keanu · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
"ᵒʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁱˡ
ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ
ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ
ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ﹖
ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱ ᶜˡⁱⁿᵍ
ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ..."
Tumblr media
Sandbox Love Never Dies
Dave Lizewski x Demonic!Reader (Jennifer's Body AU)
Premise: In this chapter, reader becomes the god she was always destined to be. She does something she shouldn't, and ends up on Dave's doorstep, the only place she has ever known to go to for help. Dave is completely horrified from the night events, but still cares for reader. Some cannon from JB divergence, maybe this way we can find a happy ending. Either way, the horror is starting to settle in with this chapter, please mind the tags and authors note!
Words: 4.5k
Read chapter one here // be added to the tag list for this fic here
Tags/CW: reader death(and rebirth), side character death implied but spared the gorey details, blood, gore, angst, drama, shared trauma, hurt/comfort, nurse Dave, bath scene, Dave helps reader bathe, Dave and reader end up in some pretty good fluff at the end.
Author's Note: this chapter was really interesting to write as the horror part of this au starts to become more prevelant, but if you are squimish to any of the above CW's the please be mindful when reading. As mentioned, there is a character death in this chapter, but I opted to skip an in depth scene of what happens, but if you've seen JB you should get what's going on. If any of that is confusing, let me know! This chapter is under the cut <3 P.S. this song really fits this chapter, so give it a listen ʚ♥︎ɞ
Tumblr media
The sky looms, limitless, an endless expanse of stars over this world. A cruel world where girls too young are tied, roped, adjusted as such to the top of a natural stone used as a sacrificial table. The sky has a million eyes and they're all on you tonight, Snowflake Queen, as your heavy breathing remains still human just yet. The omnipresent dark that covers the earth nightly is just as restrained as you are, helpless to stop what will soon happen. 
You can almost feel the same pit of darkness as the sky open up in your stomach, blood running out as stupid men play stupid games with ritualistic consequences. All you can do is scream, the sound falling on deaf ears of the woods that envelope the scene. 
You find yourself as cold and limitless as the sky as your human body is ruined. The assailants laugh, crack jokes, and sing songs as their blood pumps to the idea of fame and fortune being theirs. As you go still, they figure the job is over, throwing away any evidence into Devil's Kettle, the rushing, hungry mouth of the waterfall that eats all it's given, never to return. They don't even bother to give you a second look as they leave. You can feel the chill of death take you, your breath leaving, leaving, leaving. Never to return as yours.
Then, you feel something else. 
You feel something move inside your broken body, breathing life into your lungs that had just barely stopped its function. You can feel it, black, slimey, crawling down your throat and slipping into that pit of your stomach, but not filling it. No, it sits there like a creature, a parasite, that only adds to the emptiness, that begs as much hunger as the rushing waterfall, it growls with animalistic hunger, the sound rushing out of your mouth as you try to scream. 
You aren't even sure what happened next, your eyes focused on all the little pinpricks of light in the sky that disappear if you look directly at them for too long. What you do remember is the crunching of bone as you escape your restraints, then the sound of it going back into place, your wounds closing, your body changing, a darkness filling your veins. 
You're different, maybe even better, than before.
The next thing you come to realize is how your body finds itself breaking into a run, stumbling through the tree line and seeing the still smoldering Melody Lane Tavern. The fire seems vague and so far away to you now, like another life. The corpse of the building is still illuminated in red and blue, so you decide to walk away from there. As you do, on your path you see someone. 
The shape in the dark is walking with hunched shoulders, holding itself, and shivering. You watch, curious. As you approach, the familiar face begins to connect in your fuzzy brain. 
"Marty?" Your voice croaks out, still so tired from what's happened. 
Marty turns to you, he's completely out of it, but upon seeing a familiar face looks weakly hopefully. 
"You're alive…" You say to him, he can barely speak after what's happened tonight. As you look at him, and see the thin dribbles of blood fall from his head, that pit inside you opens up farther than before. You feel a low growl wanting to escape your lips. Something about that blood is making you so hungry it's taking over your already clouded mind. 
"Does anyone know you're here, Marty?" You say, almost as a puppet, the hunger speaking for you. Marty can only shake his head, and you can almost feel the world go back for what happens next.
The only thing you remember later is flashes, you can't think about it too much, the humanity in you is still on the surface since the transformation. No, you don't want to talk about what you did to Marty. 
You do, however, know that the only thing you feel after is euphoric. You are coated with the blood of this endless nightmare, stumbling about the dark, wet blacktop roads. You barely register the headlights aimed for you, and you know that even if you were struck by a car, you're invincible right now. You drank the blood, and now you're a god.
Dave can't stop shaking. He feels like his stomach might cave in, and he can hardly believe any of tonight happened. He can still see you, dazed, glassy eyed and being pulled into those fuckers van. His muscles tighten just thinking about it, and he feels like he throw a punch for one of the first times in his life. 
He's so worried about you, he has no idea what to even do, but he knows something is wrong. As he and Katie were caught in the hectic aftermath of the fire, the police just starting to show up, he felt something that made him double over in the grass. It was as if his stomach had been slit, he could feel it so vividly, practically sense your pain as much as you felt it. All he could do was writhe in the grass, begging Katie to help him, and not let anyone want to try to keep him here longer. No, he didn't need medical attention, he just needed to get home. He needed somewhere he could be safe, somewhere he could maybe try to think of saving you. 
Katie, despite how little she's known Dave, actually came through, and helped Dave get to his feet. Despite the pain, they made it to Dave's car without anyone trying to stop them. Katie was happy to help Dave, but she was terrified for Erika, who hasn't been spotted yet. Because of this, while she has positioned Dave in the driver's seat, she tells him she has to stay, look for Erika. Dave understands, and they share a look. 
Dave knows all too well how she's feeling right now. That's exactly how he feels about you. He gives her a nod, as if to say 'go to her', and after Katie leaves, Dave takes his own advice. 
He starts the car and begins to drive, his head feeling still filled with the smoke from the fire, smoggy and clouded from the night's trauma. He feels so strange, physically. He had felt the immense pain, but now all he feels is numb. His whole body is cold, and that scares him more than the pain. You have to be alive to feel pain, this numbness…"god…please don't let it mean that…". 
Dave lets himself drive in almost dazed state, the small town is quiet at this time of night, and no one has been seen on the road since he got away from Melody Lane's chaos. In fact, it's so eerily desolate. The cold, wet night glistening off the road. Dave takes his eyes off the road for a moment, to turn on the heat in the car, the shivering cold and numbness reaching a breaking point inside him, it's so strong. 
When he looks back at the road, he practically screams, the terror rising and catching in his throat, he hits the brakes as hard as possible. His headlights flood a figure with a brightness that blocks out half their shape. But what he catches before the person runs, impossibly fast, makes his spit run thin. That puffy white jacket, those piercing eyes, all that blood….
Dave can barely shake himself free of what he's seen, but now he's sitting here, all alone, that numbing feeling drifting away. It's all he can do, so he finishes his drive home.
When he returns home, he can barely move his body, the pain of tonight already setting in as the adrenaline cools and thickens inside him. Dave is just so tired. He weakly goes inside, his dad is likely well asleep, maybe a bottle in. Despite feeling like tonight's events should be 'wake your parent up out of a drunken stupor' worthy, Dave trudges up the stairs to his attic room. As he opens the door, the intense numbing feeling brushes past him once again, and he braces himself. 
Inside, you sit on his floor, bloody and clothes torn, completely dazed. 
Dave cannot describe how it feels to see you, he is shocked, but the relief of having you here, with him, not with those horrible men, washes over him so intensely that his knees almost give out. 
"Oh my god…" Dave doesn't even feel like he's saying it, but the words fall from his mouth. He rushes to your side, falling next to you, and gripping your arms through your jacket. "You're alive…I thought…" 
You're still so dazed, but your eyes slowly drag over to Dave. Your mouth is crusted with blood that's not yours, god, if Dave knew from whom it came from he would never forgive you. Besides that, you can hardly understand what compelled you, in this new form, to come here. Old habits die hard, you suppose. You also have a feeling that absolutely terrifies you when Dave comes so close. 
As much as you felt something similar when you saw Marty, this is different. You feel as if the hunger inside you isn't an overwhelming coldness, no it's not the need to fill that numb spot within you. It's different. A blazing fire. It builds, your stomach set ablaze and filled with a want and a yearning that is so strong. You eye Dave with a hunger that goes well beyond the need to eat, no, this isn't sustenance, it's a want for him, all of him.
You can just imagine, pulling him up from the floor, dragging him to his bed, and your weight and power on top of him. You can just imagine his innocent eyes as you can't decide whether to fuck him or sink your teeth into him. Just the thought of sliding his cock into you while you do both, tasting him, his neck in your mouth, the submission as he allows you to take him, all of him…
Dave has to reach up and gently grab your chin, focusing your attention on him. You didn't even realize a low growl had started forming, deep within your chest as you thought about consuming Dave.  You also notice he had been talking while you imagined this, and feel a mixture of disgust and lust. 
"What happened…?" Is all he can say at this point, you seem completely broken, and he can sense that your energy is different even if he doesn't acknowledge that he does. You don't respond, for a long moment, your thoughts a haze of trying to ignore the budding hunger inside of you, and remembering how to be, well, human. Even if you couldn't articulate it now, you knew you were not like Dave anymore, not at all. You aren't really sure what you are, or everything it entails, but you know for sure if you don't keep your hunger in check…you don't even want to think about what could happen, the guilt from your still fresh humanity filling your veins with a chill. 
"Dave…can you…can you please just help me up…" You start, your voice is dry and tired. Dave doesn't even question, he simply stands and holds out his hands, those large hands you've dreamed about touching you. You realize how cold your hands are to his nice, warm, human hands. He swiftly pulls you up, and you wobble, his hands there to steady you at the waist.
You're so close when you look up at him. He wasn't always this tall, you remember when you were kids, and you used to tease him about how he was shorter than you. You're almost certain that it was around the time he gained an inch, that one defining inch, above you, that's about when you started to fall in love with him. It wasn't so much that his being taller did something to you to change your feelings on him, no, it was more of the fact that after that, you guys slowly became more than just schoolyard mates. Even if you would never admit those feelings that fluttered at the worst times. Right now, is one of them. If you could blush, you would be right now, Dave's big blue eyes look at you with concern and worry. Of course, Nurse Dave as always, here to patch up your bloody knees just like when you were kids. 
Right now, it's a bit more than a scrap on the knee. Dave doesn't know if he should even be keeping you here, if all that blood is yours, well, he should take you to the hospital, right? You seem so pale, so fragile as he slowly takes over the situation, no longer time for questioning any of this. 
"Here, let's go to the bathroom…" He says softly, guiding you to his en suite. It's small, dimly lit by a yellowing bulb, and messy in a way that teenage boys always seem to make. He gently picks you up, and for a moment, you're surprised at how strong Dave is. You don't remember when he got to be so strong. He sets you on the sink counter, which has ample room for you, and begins by taking your puffy, once white, jacket off. 
"What are you…?" You start, still out of it. 
"You just…" Dave seems embarrassed for a  moment as he continues to undress you, but  his eyebrows pull together, determined for your own safety. "I need to see what happened, you're bleeding so much…" 
Dave's hands begin to shake as he notices  underneath your jacket there is a large hole in your shirt. He has to steady himself, he has no idea how bad the wound is, and as he keeps looking at the shirt he notices more and more holes, the blood making it so hard to see what exactly is going on. 
"Did…oh my god…did you get stabbed?" Dave has to take his glasses off for a moment just to make sure he's seeing this all correctly. There's no way you could even be standing, let alone at his door if these truly are stab wounds. He reaches out gingerly, his fingers barely tracing a hole that goes directly over your heart, and pulls his hand back in fear of that hole leading to a wound in your body. You don't respond to his question, way too tired and focused on fighting your own hunger to be talking much right now. 
"Okay, we need this off…" Dave says quickly, any embarrassment for seeing you in your bra overtaken by how scared he is about what he will see on your body. He gently, but effectively takes your shirt off, a lacy white bra underneath, soaked in blood. Dave looks you over, the blood is slick on your body, starting to turn darker shades of red and  brown now as it begins to dry, but what he realizes is that as his fingers explore your body all he feels is softness. His fingers even trace to that spot, right over your heart, moving away blood that slicks his fingers, and all he finds is smooth, soft skin underneath. No wounds. 
"This…this isn't your blood?" He almost scoffs the words out, in disbelief. By the looks of you when you came in he thought…well, he doesn't really even know what he thought, but he was sure you were in much worse shape. You catch his eyes when he asks, and shake your head wearily. Dave lets out a sigh of relief that expels so much stress he can barely breathe in again when he's done. 
"Holy shit…God…you had me so worried there…" He could almost scream, but instead he does something neither of you expected. His strong arms grab you, pulling you close, almost off the counter, and into his chest. He puts his head right against your tangled, blood soaked hair, and he is glad you can't see him right now. Dave sees a glance of himself in the mirror, the tears forming and slowly dripping down his cheeks. He just can't believe you're here, you're okay, and that he can keep you safe now. 
"I'm so lucky…" He whispers, not necessarily to you, or himself. 
Lucky. You could almost laugh if you weren't losing more and more energy as you feel yourself sinking into Dave's arms. Nothing about tonight had been lucky. In fact, you almost wonder if this is some sort of sick joke being played on you, and if you could  just close your eyes, fall asleep, when you woke it would all be over. 
When Dave finally pulls away, to get a better look at you once more, you let out a small noise of discontent from losing his warm embrace. 
"We should probably get you cleaned up." he says, looking you over, assessing what's needed. "Do you think you can do it yourself…?" 
Before he's even finished asking the question you're shaking your head. Dave can't help a blush rise to his cheeks as he thinks about how he will have to undress you completely to really help you get clean. He then nervously moves his hand to push his glasses back up, before noticing them sitting on the counter next to, and laughs uncomfortably. 
"Well, we'll have to get these c-clothes," he starts sputtering out a bit, he isn't usually so nervous around you, you're, well his best friend in the whole world. And if it wasn't for the gender difference this wouldn't be such a big deal. Dave lets out a shaky breath, then continues, more determined to complete the task at hand so that you can feel better. "Yes, as long as you're okay with it, I'll have to undress you to help you bathe." 
He settles on that, hoping he's not being weird and that the end justifies the mean here. You look up at him, and muster the energy to speak, to calm his nerves. 
"I need your help Dave, I don't care if you see me naked…" You say weakly, and it's true. If it wasn't for the fact that you were feeling as if your energy was fading faster and faster, you may have very well been worried about Dave seeing you naked. But right now? No, you couldn't care even if you tried after the night had. You think Dave senses that and feels the same way. He's just as tired as you, by the look in his eyes. 
Dave doesn't say much more, besides an occasional instruction for helping to get your clothes off. He helps you wiggle out of tight skinny jeans, the task made harder by the blood soaked spots that want to stick to your skin. After that, it's only your bra and panties left. Dave can't help but notice how much of your body is being exposed to him for the first time. It's just how he imagined it, if not even better, and he has to remind himself that this wasn't how this should have gone, and now is not the time for a wandering mind. You tell him you have your underwear covered as far as taking it off, and ask if he can start the bath. 
He nods, says 'of course!' As if he had made some mistake when his hand reached up for the waistband of your matching panties. He turns to the bathtub before he embarrasses himself more, and you slowly, muscles tired and sore, hop off the counter and begin taking off your bra. When you're finally fully undressed, you ask Dave if he can close his eyes as you hop in the tub. 
"Oh, sure, here." He holds out his arm for you to steady yourself as you get in. You utilize this, and as you sink into the half full tub you feel a sense of ease hit you. Dave has it at the perfect temperature, the heat of the bath making you miss his warm arms once more. You let Dave know when he can open his eyes, even though you're sure he can see a full view of your ample chest, it somehow feels better that half of you is protected by the bubbles Dave also added to the bath. 
Dave can feel how deeply red his cheeks are as he watches your breasts rise and fall in the water, and when the water begins to turn a rusty color, Dave straightens his mind out. He kneels down next to the tub, his knees on the bathmat. You slide closer as he grabs a washcloth and begins dipping it in the warm water. Neither of you speak as he begins  with your face, the softness of the cloth and the warmth of the water easing your tensions while taking off blood and make up. Dave has actually helped you take your makeup off for the night before so he starts with this, feeling most confident in his abilities. 
Eventually he finishes your face, and you open your eyes to see him deciding where to start next. He starts on your neck, it's the next thing down that has blood crusted on it, so might as well, right? He cleans gently, making sure that he's not hurting you, going slowly. When you're certain your neck is done, and he's just avoiding going lower, you look up at him, meeting his eyes with a new boldness that has emerged from your transformation. You take his hand gently and lead it to your breast, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to feel your soft, plump skin there. His eyes look so nervous, something about how much he wants to touch in this way being so clear on his face, yet he rejects it, as to be gentlemanly, or a good friend perhaps, turns you on way more than any of the other boys who have had access to your breasts. 
He takes his time here, despite his nerves. Circling your breasts with the washcloth until your supple skin is all that's showing. He keeps his eyes mainly on yours, something about the connection between you two right now is more than just a horny teenager seeing his first pair of boobs. No, it's deeper than that. It's about the trust between you two, and how Dave is staying focused on your needs first and foremost. That isn't to  say that how he is touching you now isn't making your already weak legs feel weaker, a quivering in your chest and between your legs building as Dave moves on to the other side, making sure to give the same attention there. You can feel yourself twitch as he brushes over your nipples, which are so hard and tight despite the warm water. They just barely float above the bubbles, and Dave makes sure you're all clean before moving on. 
You thought the spell would be broken when he moves on to cleaning your back, but somehow, his hands moving in such a pleasurable massage, makes you want him even more. You completely relax as he cleans, you're sure that it's clean by now, but Dave continues to massage just to make you feel better. When he pauses, you feel his breath against your ear, his voice soft, full of something you've never heard from him before. 
"Does that feel good?" He checks in, and you nod, giving a small, relaxed 'mhm…' along with it. You can't see it, but you're sure Dave is smiling, pleased to please you. He always has been that way. He can't help it when it comes to you. 
He reaches for the shower head, glad that the bath is a two in one, and starts the water there. He checks the temperature again, making sure it won't be shocking, and he wets your hair. He still can't believe how much blood was on you, and you're unharmed. He begins to gently wash your hair, wondering where it came from. Perhaps he'll ask you in the morning when all this might make more sense. But right now, he works a lather into your hair, his hands like magic, moving so thoughtfully through your locks. You find yourself wishing that this had come on any other night. Why is it that you get to know the pleasure of Dave's hands on your body after all that's happened and not on both of your own terms. You are too tired and enjoying what Dave is doing to care right now. That's for another you to ponder sometime.
Dave finishes up your hair, and gives the wash cloth over to you, instructing you to finish up anything he couldn't reach. He informs you that he is going to get some new clothes for you, and to your surprise, his cool lips touch your forehead before he leaves. You gaze up at his form as he's already out the bathroom door, strutting quickly away to find some new clothes without leaving you too long. You finish washing while he's gone, and stand up wearily out of the tub, grabbing a nearby towel to dry off. 
You're all wrapped up in a white towel of his, the tub filled with dirty water, slowly taking it, fand the night that caused it, down the drain. Dave comes back in, surprised you're out, but glad you didn't slip while doing so. 
"I got you an old band shirt of mine, and a pair of my shorts." You smile, taking the shirt and shorts. 
"I love this shirt…" You say, slowly pulling over your head, the towel still shielding you. 
"I know…" Dave says softly as your head pops out of the shirt, your wet hair leaving droplets on the shoulders. You smile and Dave glances away as you slip his shorts on, fitting you nicely enough for the night. You discard the towel and follow Dave towards his bed. 
"Here…" He says, pulling back the covers so you can get in. You do, gladly. Dave slips in behind you, and he immediately puts his arms around your waist, too nervous of you escaping him again. You notice the hunger from earlier is duller, calmed for now. Somehow, Dave's attention to you has helped, and you find as Dave snuggles against your shoulder, your breath slowing. The terrors of tonight are ringing around your ears still, but it's no match for how tired your body is. You drift into a deep sleep, wrapped by Dave Lizewski's arms, something you never thought would happen this way.
Some thing's really must be fate.
186 notes · View notes
plangentlyre · 4 months
Text
blossica would bathe together me thinks not only because Jessica insisted so but also for Jennifer to learn how exactly she can groom a half-deer girl properly. At least, that was her excuse. As it turns out, nothing much changes except for a few selected brushes that can clean off any dirt stuck on her fur and a few customized products saved only for her hair. 
But it's only then that Jennifer slips off the towel wrapped around her body that she notices the marks. It's not the first time she's seen them, those white root-like trails peeking from her shoulder and her legs, but it's definitely the first time she's examined them so closely.
"Does it hurt?" she asks as she grazes her fingers across the marks branched all over her back. "This–this mycelium, was it? I've seen you summon them in your attacks but it doesn't hurt you, right?"
"Of course not, Jennifer," Jessica gives her a sweet smile, "I would never hurt you with them."
Even with the comfort laced in her voice, Jennifer can't help the bubble of anger that festers in her chest. Jessica didn’t deserve this, she didn’t deserve to live as some kind of experiment in her childhood, prodded with needles and chemicals that hurt her.
At the same time, she didn’t deserve to be left alone, especially by the only companion she had, leaving her in a lake filled with monsters and stories of nightmares as memories. If Jennifer hadn't picked to film at Green Lake, if she hadn't embraced her true self as an arcanist, would Jessica still be there, waiting for a day Jennifer would come back to tell stories to her as she starves and dreams of a better, happier place?
Perhaps that foundation's school has taught her something other than loopholes to commit delinquency because Jessica has become too perspective to notice her emotions that she turns and hugs her tightly. "Don't be sad, Jennifer. I'm already very happy, I get to see and experience the outside world with you."
"Right," she flushes, partly ashamed for her thoughts and partly for the childish glee that Jessica engulfed her with the embrace, even with the water and her exposed body pressed against hers.
And if bathing together has become a sort of routine that they do, well, it's not anyone's business anyways. 
62 notes · View notes
epinebleue · 5 months
Text
for him (m) | 02
Tumblr media
after a year abroad, you think summer back home can’t get any better. then, a charming ginger boy catches your eye.
pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader (female)
genre: rich kids!au, fluff, angst, mature.
warnings: mention of low self-esteem and racism.
chapter index | previous chapter | next chapter
Tumblr media
Every summer, Jennifer’s parents spend two weeks in France to celebrate what they call their “annual honeymoon”.
Every summer, Jennifer throws a pool party while they’re away.
You’re supposed to be at her place at 10 AM to help her prep the space, but having stayed up late the night before, the annoying sound of the alarm does little to wake you up in the morning, Oliver doing so, instead.
You step into Jen’s patio exactly two hours later. She clicks her tongue at you, as if saying: “Finally!”.
Through the dark lenses of your sunglasses, you glance at her body as she approaches. The beautiful baby blue bikini she’s wearing fits her like a glove, as if it had been tailored with her in mind.
You’re used to feeling insecure whenever you’re around Jen. You know you shouldn’t, but you do.
It’s been this way since middle school, when one day the boys in your class rated the girls’ bodies from 1 to 10 on a piece of paper. You came second to last, while Jen’s name sat comfortably in first place.
“I know, I know.” You let out a sigh, allowing Jen to give you a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”
Johnny and Sooyoung wave at you from inside the pool and you wave back, walking to where the rest of your friends are. Wendy, who was sunbathing, sits beside you under the parasol. Victoria gets out of the pool and joins the group soon after.
Once settled on the lounger, you scan the space. Ten and Lucas are sitting on the edge of the pool with sunglasses on, swinging their legs in the water, immersed in what seems an intense conversation. Sooyoung and Johnny splash around as they try to drown each other, much to Yuta’s annoyance, who finds their game an obstacle to what he really wants: swim in peace.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but then, the switch in your mind flips: someone’s missing.
“Hey, where’s Chris?”
There’s a moment of silence where Wendy takes a sip of her lemonade, eye-siding Jen. “They argued yesterday.”
Your brunette friend looks away, missing your surprised expression. “Again?”
Chris’ parents are family friends, so you’ve known him for as far as you can remember. However, you had never interacted much until he became Jennifer’s first serious boyfriend.
Being an only child, Chris is expected to inherit his family’s wealth and business. If he’s famous for something, though, that’s his looks. You must admit he’s drop dead gorgeous. Of course, Jen wouldn’t settle for less.
Soon after they started dating, you realized that having a handsome partner had its drawbacks. Jennifer would whine in your group chat every week about how hard it was to stand girls checking him out, how some would go as far as to sneak papers with their phone numbers when she wasn’t looking.
Even if Chris politely rejected their approaches every time, Jennifer started to gradually get sick of the whole situation until, one day, it exploded.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“He’s a Greek statue come to life, Jen, of course he will be hit on!” Wendy says. “You’ve got to learn to cope.”
Jen rolls her eyes at Wendy’s words, a sign she’s getting angry.
“On what side are you on, exactly?”
“We aren’t picking sides.” You try to mediate, making a gesture to your blonde friend, asking for her sun cream. Having prepared your bag in a rush, you must’ve left yours at home. “I know it’s hard to watch people flirt with him all the time. But Wendy has a point, too. Being good-looking isn’t his fault, you know?”
You end your statement with a glance in Victoria’s direction, but the girl doesn’t say a word. She’s the type to not participate in debates like this.
“Exactly!” Wendy agrees, pointing at you. “Besides, he always rejects those advances. He would never hurt your feelings on purpose, Jen. He’s literally the sweetest boy I’ve ever met.”
“Talking about me, I see.”
You turn around to find Yuta standing behind you, soaked from head to toe. A water drop on the tip of his hair falls on his shoulder and you follow it as it slides down his chest and reaches his happy trail.
You fan yourself. Good thing it’s hot today. Otherwise, what would you blame the fire in your belly on? 
Jen chuckles as Yuta sits next to her, seeking protection from the aggressive sun. “Humble as always.”
“I thought I was the nicest boy you’ve ever met.” He shoves her with his shoulder, smiling. You’ve got the urge to look away. The fire in your belly is quickly replaced by an unsettling feeling you’re familiar with.
“After Chris.” Victoria finally speaks. “If that makes you feel better.”
“Not really, but I’ll get over it.” Yuta shrugs. “How come you’re still dry? It’s a pool party, ladies, come on!”
All your friends stand up, encouraged by his words and the terrible heat, and start walking to the pool. Except you. When Yuta notices, he gestures to you to join them.
“I’m not done.” You say, shaking the suncream bottle in the air.
“I’ll wait for you, then.”
“It’s fine.” He sits exactly where he was a few seconds ago. “Just go with the others.”
“Some more time in the shade never hurts.”
“So that’s why you’re here.” You find it hard to hide the disappointment in your tone. “You’ve fooled me. I thought you were a gentleman.”
Yuta leans back, his abs flexing as he speaks. He’s got such a tiny waist, adorned by a tattoo of a butterfly. You wonder if it carries any meaning.
“Oh, but I am.”
“I don’t believe it.” You finish extending the cream on your left arm. “You’ve hung around Ten for too long.”
“Other people’s personalities don’t change mine. I’m not Lucas.”
“Hey, don’t be mean to him.” You’re aware of the bad reputation that precedes Lucas. A drunk heart-to-heart conversation that happened before you went abroad helped you realize Lucas uses his behavior as a mask to hide his numerous insecurities. In a way, you can relate to that. Besides, being the youngest of five successful siblings makes him subject to his parents’ expectations, which tend to be unrealistic. And his brothers, far from supportive, are entitled assholes, straight-up bullies. No wonder he feels he has to act all tough to be taken seriously. “He’s a good kid.”
“Sorry, are we talking about the same person?” You’re about to defend Lucas again, but upon watching you struggle to apply the cream on your back, Yuta interrupts you before you can talk. “Do you need a hand?”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll get sunburnt there, anyway.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Yuta grabs the bottle and sits right behind you, deaf to your words. At his insistence, you reach for your hair with trembling hands. Before you can even move it aside, he does so, his fingers brushing your back in the process.
You hold your breath at the sound of the cream coming out of the bottle. And then, his hands are on you.
You think your heart will jump out of your mouth and start running around the patio.
His warm palms delicately rub the cream into your skin, and you hope he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that bloom when he reaches the small of your back.
God, you’re so touch-starved it’s embarrassing.
You wonder if you’re tripping when Yuta takes a little longer to massage your shoulders. Trying to focus on anything else, your eyes land on Jen, who has joined Lucas and Ten by the edge of the pool. The bikini lets her flat stomach on display. Unconsciously, you suck in yours. She places her hair behind her shoulders as she laughs at something that Ten says.
Even her laugh sounds beautiful, everything about her is!
That must be why Yuta likes her so much.
You stand up, getting as far away from his hands as possible.
“I think that will do.” You say, eyes fixed on the floor, aware of how much you’ve just embarrassed yourself. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” His tone remains normal, but if you had looked at him, you would’ve seen him frown at the sudden mood change. Yuta leaves the bottle on the chair and follows you to the pool.
“About time you stopped playing handsies back there.”
You simply lift your middle finger at Ten, quickly making your way towards the staircase, hoping the water will hide your body from the rest.
Tumblr media
It’s close to midnight and you’re on the verge of begging your parents to leave.
You’re celebrating the promotion of someone you don’t even know; drinking alcohol-free champagne, which you don’t even like that much; and bored Robinson Crusoe level.
Oliver and Noa left the moment they found their friends. Oli had invited you to join them, but you kindly refused, knowing that you would feel like a babysitter around his friends.
So, here you are, glued to your parents’ side, forced to listen to important conversations with important people, interested in neither.
Why have you been forced to come if your presence isn’t even going to be acknowledged? Your dad said it would be rude not to attend after a year abroad. What you understood was that they wanted to show you off, and the party seemed to be the perfect occasion.
You gulp the remains of your drink and leave the empty glass on the nearer table. You open your mouth, about to ask when you will be heading out when your dad’s name comes from the crowd.
“Jonathan!” He exclaims in surprise, shaking the hand of the man that appears in front of him. “Natalie! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well, we didn’t know you were coming!” Natalie, or what you call her out of respect, Mrs. Fulger, kisses your mother’s cheeks before addressing you. “You’re back from your trip! How was it, darling?”
You deliver a polite smile to the Fulgers, saying how the trip was “absolutely fantastic” and “a truly enriching experience.”
“You must be proud of her.” Mr. Fulger tells your parents, placing his big hand on his son’s shoulder. “Chris will take a gap year after graduating. One last taste of freedom before joining the company.”
The Fulger marriage laughs and your parents join them, and in less than a minute you’re back to being ignored, business taking over the conversation. You awkwardly stand beside your mom until you decide it’s enough.
“I’ll get something to drink.” You excuse yourself. “I’ll be back.”
“Chris will be enchanted to go with you.”
His father pushes him forward slightly. Chris gives you his signature charming smile before saying: “Of course.”
You make your way towards the bar immersed in an awkward silence. Of all people, you had to bump into him.
“Are you liking this party so far?” 
“I’m bored to death.”
“Me too.” You tap the bar counter with your long nails, laughing at his honest answer. “How’s life going?”
“Good, it’s good.” He looks around, playing with the glass he’s holding. “I’m in the training process to start working in my father’s company. He wants me to get familiar with the business and its processes before stepping in.”
There’s nothing worse than inheriting a position in a family business, but that’s just your opinion.
“You must be excited.”
“I am, yeah.” Chris nods, taking a sip of his drink. Even if you’re both trying hard to ignore the elephant in the room, Chris gives in first. “Have you talked to Jennifer, by the way?”
“She’s my best friend, Chris.”
He gives you a half-smile, only realizing now how stupid his question must’ve sounded.
“She won’t return my calls or my texts. She has blocked me on every social media, she doesn’t even want to see me! I don’t know where we stand right now.”
You’re not sure of what to answer, afraid you may say the wrong thing. One thing you know, though, is that even if you’ll always be loyal to Jen, you must admit she’s handling this whole thing terribly wrong.
“I’m sure it sucks.”
Chris genuinely laughs for the first time tonight.
“Yeah, a little.” You laugh at his irony-filled tone, too, and the atmosphere feels much lighter now. “Relationships are so fucking complicated. Don’t ever get into one.”
“I’ll be fine.” You say, taking a sip of the drink the waiter has just served you. “It’s not like there’s a long line of men dying to date me.”
“Now, that’s surprising.” 
Much to your delight, he’s too invested in his problem to notice how the blood has rushed to your cheeks.
A certain someone comes to your mind and with him a question you’re dying to ask.
“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Chris straightens his back, shoving a hand into the pocket of his suit pants, nodding. “Have you and Jen argued due to a… third person?”
It’s just like when people yell at a character to not go into the room where the killer awaits. But it’s just you in the cinema, screaming at yourself to stop talking.
“Of course not! What the fuck?” Chris’ blue eyes open wide in shock as he reaches for his phone. “Did she tell you that? Does she think I’m cheating?”
“No, Chris.” You place a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him from texting Jen, who will murder you if she finds out you have planted a new suspicion in Chris’ mind. “God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry. It was just a question! I swear-”
“Hey.”
You aren’t sure if you should celebrate or bury a hole in the floor and hide when Yuta appears out of thin air, his eyes falling on Chris’ arm, where your hand is. You quickly move it away, which is exactly what is needed to make everything look suspicious.
“Hi.” Chris greets, not interested in Yuta’s presence at all. His head is elsewhere now that you’ve completely fucked up. “I’m leaving, I need to call her.”
Chris disappears in the crowd before you have the chance to say goodbye, leaving you behind with Yuta, who raises an eyebrow at you.
“Um, what was that?”
Whatever he’s insinuating offends you terribly. Do you look like the type to steal your best friends’ guys?
“That was nothing.” You snap. “He’s Jen’s boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“It’s a rough patch, they’ll end up getting back together.”
“Hopefully, they won't.” Your heart drops at his remark, but Yuta’s too busy looking in the direction Chris has disappeared, resting an elbow on the bar. “I hate that guy.”
Chris has always seemed kind and very down to earth. You wonder what could he have possibly done to gain Yuta’s resentment. To that question, you’ve got a theory. And you’d hate being right.
“I think he’s nice.”
“Oh, you think he’s nice?” Yuta snorts at your words. “You don’t know him that well at all, then.”
Yuta glances around the room, which allows you to scan him for a while. He looks really handsome in a suit. He reminds you of those vintage Hollywood stars.
“Why do you hate Chris? Is it because you like Jennifer?”
The question shocks you both. Again, you’re alone in the cinema begging yourself to just shut the fuck up.
“What?” He lets out a laugh of disbelief. “What does Jen have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know...”
“Oh, you do know. What have you seen that made you think that?”
Congratulations! You’ve just dug your own grave.
“Nothing in particular.” You answer, shrugging. “You seem to get along really well, now you hate her boyfriend...”
“First of all, I don’t like Chris because he’s a racist piece of shit. And I get along really well with Johnny, too. Do you think I want to fuck him, too?”
You can feel the color draining from your face.
“I don’t know what you like.”
If there’s something you’ve learned about Yuta, it’s that he’s the straightforward type. He’s unbothered and an expert when it comes to turning around the conversation to make it beneficial for him. He’s something like a mastermind, you’d say.
“Do you like me?”
“What?!” You shriek, trying to hide your shaky voice with a laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“Why then would you ask me about Jen?” Yuta presses, tilting his head to the side. “Are you jealous?”
“I’m not! I was just curious!”
“You’re full of shit.” You’d be lying if you said you don’t find his smirk insanely attractive. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t mind. I would be very glad, actually.”
It’s at this point that your head starts spinning.
You see, you have never been confident. Out of the friend group, you’ve always been the shiest one. You don’t smile in pictures because you think your smile is ugly, and you don’t wear tight clothes because you hate your body.
You have had a single relationship in your life, at sixteen, and it crushed your self-esteem even further. A promise to yourself was made after that: no one would put you through that hell again.
Is that what Yuta is playing at? Making you believe he likes you just to laugh in your face once you take the bait?
He had seemed genuine when he defended you the night you met. Had it just been to give a good first impression?
You hold your purse tight, hold your head high.
“I hope the rest of your night goes well, Yuta.”
And you walk away with your dignity intact.
Tumblr media
No reposting or translations allowed.
© epinebleue 2023
57 notes · View notes